Forever Elusive
by Pet Me Feed Me
Summary: When she looked at him, it was not with fear. It was with an endless curiousity, a fascination, that he had not seen before. To see her, then, look at another man with those eyes, killed him on the inside. GaaHinaSasu
1. Itadakimasu

**AUTHORS NOTE: **I'm not being very true to the actual story in Naruto here. Please realize that I know this and try to enjoy the story nonetheless.

It's actually kind of funny that I'm writing a Naruto fanfic, since I grew out of the series about two years ago. The thing is, while I can't stand watching our favorite brightly colored hooligan shout out ninjustu techniques for more than a minute, I still am madly in love with well-written Naruto fanfiction. And for some strange reason, I absolutely adore GaaraxHinata. Their personalities clash so badly that they make an awesome couple. And, because Kishimoto didn't exactly let them interact, they leave a lot to the imagination. Which I like. A lot.

The problem is, there aren't that many good GaaraxHinatas out there. I have my favorites, like 39 point 948 (which just screams beastliness, look it up and read it), but I'm often disappointed.

Still, I felt a very strange urge to dole out some GaaHina stuff myself.

Some general facts remain the same. This takes place in Naruto's world—still divided into Konoha and Suna, etc. There are still Academies. Everyone who has a demon still has a demon. I try to keep the characters true to their normal personalities, with some tweaks here and there, of course.

Everything else? *chucks out of window* For example, the Academy goes on until high school, mostly because I wanted everyone to be a little more mature (and, *cough cough* really wanted to describe how frickin hot Gaara is, which would be a little weird if he was still 12…) and Tsunade is Hokage even from early on. Also, this is a modern fic. 21st century, with all the shindings included. The Shinobi are a dying sort of race, and only a few Academies are left. There are built-up cities and cell phones and cars. They wear jeans sometimes.

Don't like that? Deal with it. It's quite important.

BD

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto, although I would love to have Gaara. XD

Gaara spat on the floor. Even that action was one of malice, done out of total disregard for the groaning boy whose head he had nearly splattered with spittle. Three of the other boys lay sprawled on the concrete floor, unmoving but for the shallow rise and fall of their chests and the occasional agonized moan. Four stupid, stinking, useless idiots who had, for some reason, thought it would be hilarious to test him, to try him. Didn't they understand by now that he would always have the last laugh?

His eyes narrowed with a sudden pulse of belated rage; he kicked the still writhing body of the closest boy. He barely responded, only rolled over and shuddered. Not enough. The Shukaku wanted more. It had tasted blood, but now it wanted to bathe in it, wanted to engulf itself in a sea of crimson.

Nevertheless, Gaara turned away and left the quiet of the locker room unsatisfied, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

*

"…beaten to the point of unconsciousness—do you have any idea how serious this is, you three?" roared the principal of the Suna Academy, Mr. Rodori. Rodori was just over five feet tall, and his tan complexion, scratchy black beard and propensity to nag gave him the impression of an extremely yappy Chihuahua. He glared down as viciously as he could on the three Kaze siblings, who, unfortunately, were not easily intimidated.

Gaara narrowed his eyes. Their color, a delicate sea-foam green, gleamed sharply, uncharacteristic for such a soft, gentle hue. His sister, Temari, painted her nails in such a blatant display of boredom that Rodori turned the color of puce. Their oldest brother, Kankorou, watched Rodori yip, bemused, and feigned interest although he was really mentally noting possible "That's what She Said"s to make fun of later.

"They asked for it, we said," Temari said exasperatedly, as though that explanation alone justified their actions. "Fricking retards. They knew what they were getting into."

"You went too far."

Kankorou laughed. "Too far? You give us too much credit. No one's dead, right?"

Rodori fumed, his nostrils flaring. "Two of them are in the hospital, suffering from hemorrhages. One of them had his two front teeth kicked out. The locker room floor was layered in blood and spit. That, my friends, is called going _too far_."

Temari buckled over in her seat, still managing to keep her wet nails from smudging as she laughed her head off. "No. That's called kicking _ass._"

Rodori sighed. There was no reasoning with these kids. When he had taken up a job as a principal in the dirty, inner cesspool of Suna, he had expected ruthless street urchins. But before his transfer, he had been too naïve, too gullible. He had a strange theory that all human beings, no matter how evil, were not heartless. That they, unless they were psychotic, did not actually enjoy hurting others.

These Kaze kids certainly threw him out of that stupid Utopia.

"You realize that this is your third strike, and that because of your circumstances, I've been extremely lenient with you? You do realize that I can no longer grant you this leniency?"

Gaara shrugged, ready for whatever piece of crap punishment he was to face.

"You realize that I have to expel you now, don't you?"

At this, Temari and Kankorou leapt simultaneously to their feet.

"What? Expelled?"

Rodori looked strangely triumphant at finally having caught the attention he craved. Two out of three Kazes stared up at him in stupid shock. The youngest one did not move but only looked slightly annoyed. He tousled his crimson-red hair and sighed aloud, tilting his head back and crossing his arms. His skin was smooth, unblemished, and pale—pale like death, completely devoid of flush or color. The rims around his eyes were dark from lack of sleep, and his knuckles were cracked from overuse.

"Where are you going to send us?" Temari wailed aloud. In her passion, she threw down her nail polish, which spread in an inky puddle all over the tile. She ignored it. "Look, you might not understand this, so I'm going to spell it out for you. We. Are. Shinobi. This is Suna's only Academy! What about my _classes_?" She shuddered; just the thought of attending a normal high school was nightmarish.

At this, Rodori grimaced. A large part of the reason why he had not yet expelled the Kazes was that they were the top of their classes. Little, misled geniuses. They surpassed the second guy in flurries of memorized technique, publish-able reports, impenetrable genjustsu and ninjustu and overall intelligence. Kicking out the Kazes would have a toll on him, too. He would have to explain to the superintendent how his school's average standardized test scores had dropped thirty percent.

The Kazes, indeed, were unique in many ways. Children of the late Kazekage, they had grown up fearless and spoiled and therefore, dangerous. The youngest was the worst of all, because he had only recently joined the rest of society again. Inside his body, he housed the dangerous Shukaku, which had rendered him untouchable and volatile for the first thirteen years of his life. The boy had suffered, Rodori admitted, far more haunting things than any child should endure. He had watched as his village and those he wished to love shunned him and feared him. The man he looked up to like a father had tried to kill him. He had evaded more assassination attempts that the past five Kazekages combined. Really, Rodori was surprised that he had the control to attend the Academy, although, to weaken him a bit, he was required to leave his gourd at home.

That hadn't stopped him from destroying about 20 of the other students, though.

"You're going to have to transfer out of Suna," Rodori finally sighed. Kankarou rolled his eyes and plopped onto his chair. "I have already contacted their Hokage, and she has graciously accepted. You will be transferring to Konoha. You can start tomorrow, as I've already filled out the paperwork."

Gaara finally stood up, still expressionless.

"Are you finished?" he asked, in a low, quiet growl.

Rodori shivered. "Yes, yes. You may go."

Gaara left, not really needing his permission. His siblings followed. Temari turned around, cocking her head toward the black nail polish seeping into the spaces between the wood.

"I hope you never get that out," she spat, and then slammed the door shut behind her.

*

Konoha was much brighter than Suna, much more alive, although, Gaara thought, the people looked stupider. They smiled too much; they laughed too much. They drove their pretty, gas-guzzling cars and chatted oblivious on their pretty, slim cell phones. They gossiped in the market place and on the patios of cozy outdoor cages.

They had no worries on their minds. He looked away from them impassively, focusing only on the looming red stucco building before them. Konoha's Academy. He could already see the students lounging outside, chatting incessantly and checking their watches to time themselves. Gaara felt Kankorou shift to look at his and growled. His brother had never been one to care about punctuality.

"They look weaker than the Suna girls," Temari scoffed, stretching.

Kankarou nodded. "Uglier, too."

Gaara pursed his lips and walked onto the lawn. He could see people staring at him, their eyes roving over the black kanji on his forehead, the huge gourd on his back. They could tell he was not one of them. He could taste their fear and apprehension as he walked into the school, his siblings flanking his sides like bodyguards. Perhaps they had heard of him. He was mildly pleased by this, but also slightly disappointed. The Shukaku would not stay silent unless he fed it well, and nothing satiated its appetite more than bratty, healthy youth who didn't keep their mouths shut.

*

Hinata Hyuga hugged her books to her chest and pursed her lips together as she tried to remember the correct incantation for a jutsu Neji had taught her. Her hair, which she was working to grow out, hung in a brilliant blue-black sheet around the nape of her neck. Suddenly, the words came to her mind, and she whispered them to herself as she channeled chakra into her feet. Immediately, she felt the floor underneath her feel slippery, like ice, and she glided down it at breakneck speed, careful to use her Byakugan to make sure she didn't run into any unfortunate passersby. Exhilirating—that was how Neji had described it, and she admitted that he couldn't have found a better word for it. Dead useful too, seeing as she would not get to class in time without it. She laughed, and then closed her eyes, breathing in the air that was rushing into her mouth…

And suddenly she felt herself run into something solid, like a brick wall. The impact was painful and she cried out and stumbled backward. Friction returned to her feet- the jutsu had shattered. She cursed aloud, wondering how she hadn't seen an obstacle. After all, she had only _blinked. _

The wall was thick and curved and the texture of sandpaper. It deteriorated quickly, rushing to the floor and then slithering away.

She caught the tumultuous glare of the boy head-on and gasped.

So _this _was Gaara of the Sand. Her father had spoken of him once, his tone a strange mix of admiration and revulsion as he described the power and brutality of the Kazekage's youngest son. He housed a demon, she knew. Like Naruto. A blush rose to her cheeks.

She was surprised that he was so… _beautiful. _Demonic, true, frightening, true. For some reason, she imagined the bearer of the Shukaku to be hunched and ugly, sun-burned and sore from sand. But this boy was not. His skin was pale and flawless, carved from marble, and all of his features seemed delicate and perfect. His dark red hair was tousled and messy and just short enough to display the kanji on his forehead. He was tall and lithe and his eyes were the color of a calm sea. The shadowy bags underneath them only served to make him look more ghostly, more ethereal, more like a dream.

She didn't know how long she just stared at him, agape. Just that he glared back coldly all the while, neither moving nor speaking, waiting for her, obviously, to make the first move.

Quickly she stepped aside and jerked into a bow, her palms pressed together in front of her. "I'm so sorry!"

He glowered down at her for a moment more, and then glided past her wordlessly. She held her breath as the sand at his feet slithered back into the gourd behind him and didn't release it until he had disappeared down the hall.

*

By the time she had staggered into class, late, of course, the new Suna students had already become a big topic. Kurenai-sensei didn't even bother reprimanding her with anything more than a quick, "Take your seat, Hinata" and a smile. Hinata nodded and quickly obeyed. As it had been for most of the year, the chair next to her at her two-person desk was empty. Earlier that year, a student aide, a pretty, young shinobi named Tenten, had sat in the back with her, but when she left after passing her Chunin exams, Hinata had been left all alone.

As she stacked her books on the space next to her, she noticed the way Sakura and Ino, who were whispering to each other, kept throwing her strangely furtive glances. She blushed and looked down, brushing her black bangs out of her eyes. Not for the first time, she found herself wishing the Byakugan could read minds.

To her surprise, Sakura made this quite unnecessary.

"Have you _really _seen him already?" she whispered, her eyes wide with anticipation. Ino turned too, not to be outdone, and added, "The youngest one, we mean. Gaara of the Sand."

Hinata bit her lips and started unloading her pencil bag. "Why do you ask?" she replied daringly, and then colored a deeper red at her own audacity.

Kiba, who was sitting a few feet away with Akamaru tucked safely in his jacket, grinned triumphantly. "We saw your little face-off with him. What kind of jutsu was that back there, Hyuuga?"

Ino and Sakura exchanged glances of shock, and suddenly Hinata understood what Kiba was implying. She stood up and brushed her hair out of her eyes again. "D-don't be ridiculous!" she exclaimed, "Of course I didn't try to fight him!"

At that, Kiba laughed aloud, his furry companion chortling in short, amused barks. The other girls let out a breath of relief. Everyone in the class seemed to relax at that, although Sakura seemed infinitely curious.

"So, what _did _you do, then?"

Hinata pursed her lips, wishing her little interrogation to end. She liked Sakura-chan, most of the time, but the pink-haired student had never before bothered to strike a real conversation with her. Since Hinata no longer craved her friendship, her questioning only annoyed her where it would have excited her before.

"I-I," Hinata paused and scowled, disappointed that her stuttering seemed to have resurfaced. She breathed and tried again. "I ran into him."

Sakura stifled a laugh. "You did _what_? What did he do?"

Hinata flushed red as she remembered his eyes, those steely, green eyes, lock reprovingly on hers. The way his stare did not ever falter…

"Nothing," she admitted, shrugging. Her answer didn't seem satisfactory to Sakura, who cocked her head to one side, shrugged again, and turned away.

A moment later, Kurenai calmed her class to silence. "We have a new student, as many of you may already know," she announced, her red lips spread into a wide smile. "Please welcome Sabaku Gaara. Gaara, please come in."

The entire room seemed to stiffen with anticipation. The fact that the Konoha Academy would be housing not one, but two 'Containers' was a great honor, but also a frightening concept. And by the sounds of it, this Container was not going to be a cheerful, happy-go-lucky, obnoxious kid like Naruto.

Gaara entered, arms crossed, eyes focused forward. He did not bother to even look at the group of ogling children in front of him, only at Kurenai-sensei, and he looked at her like she was a target.

"Hinata," Kurenai said brightly. "Move your things. Gaara, see that girl in the back with the pale eyes?" When Gaara finally turned and nodded, she continued, "Please sit there."

Hinata's heart stopped in her chest as the Sand-nin's eyes locked on her own. They seemed to be stuck in a permanent glare.

He removed his gourd slowly, using the sand to carefully put it behind his chair. He sat down soundlessly, not turning to her once.

Hinata forced herself to look away from him and at the work in front of her. Kurenai-sensei was talking about something, asking the class a relatively easy question, but she found herself unable to answer.

She could almost taste the sand in her mouth.

*

The bell rang to release the students for lunch. The room cleared out quickly and noisily, and while many still threw furtive glances, almost everyone seemed to be _trying _to forget he was there. He knew their attempts were failing, because he could still feel the fear radiating through them, but he didn't care. He was in an Academy to learn how to _control _himself, not entertain a bunch of Leaf-Village nitwits.

The girl next to him intrigued him, however. Despite his brief show of power in the hallway, she did not seem scared of him in the least. Instead, she was fascinated, endlessly curious, but too shy to speak. He noticed how she seemed to glance at him every few seconds, hoping to maybe initiate conversation, and then turn away disheartened when she saw the expression on his face.

His stomach growled, and his hairless brow creased. He had sourly declined the breakfast that Temari had offered, and, naturally, had not thought to bring any money for food. It was not a habit for him—in Suna, he would always squeeze the cash out of his classmates. However, since any other power-shows like that would undoubtedly get him thrown out of this school, he decided not to risk _obtaining _the money.

At that moment, he heard footsteps approaching the empty classroom. He looked up. It was that girl.

*

Hinata nearly dropped the large, boxy bento from her hands. Gaara of the Sand was still in the room, and again, his gaze had started boring holes into her skull. She could almost feel the pressure.

"Oh! Y-you're still here then, Sabaku-san," she whispered. He raised one brow as though to say, "well duh" and dropped his stare.

At that moment, she remembered that she didn't have a seat to herself anymore. All of the other aspiring shinobi ate in the cafeteria, but Hinata found out early on that lunch was a purely social event. Friends gathered at tables, and once a table was claimed by a group, it might as well be protected with a barb-wire fence. Last year, Neji-ni-san had sat with her, and in the beginning of the year Tenten. But now that they were both gone, she found herself alone and miserable amongst a sea of happy, chatting students.

She bit her lip. Gaara was distant and quiet and potentially deadly. The room was completely empty—there were available desks everywhere. If she sat in one, however, Gaara might assume she was scared stiff of him. If she sat next to him, though—

What would he do? Nothing. He could do nothing. If he tried to attack her, he would be expelled. And if he didn't like her—well, he could just move away or tell her to. Figuring that whatever consequence there was couldn't be _too _bad, Hinata plopped down comfortably on her seat and began opening up her bento. She took off the first layer, which had three mini-onigiri with salted plums pressed into their centers, and then the second, which had tightly rolled omelette rolls, a large prawn, and three cutely-cut hot dogs. Snapping open a pair of chopsticks, she muttered, "Itadakimasu" to herself and slowly lifted an omelette roll to her lips.

She heard a low rumbling next to her and turned to Gaara, who, at that moment, had cast a longing glance over her lunch. She smiled, put down the egg, and pushed her onigiri over to him.

"You can have some," she offered quietly.

He didn't answer her, only turned away.

She sighed, took one of the onigiri, and took a healthy bite out. She noticed that Gaara had turned to look at her again, following the rice ball with undisguised longing. She frowned again after taking another bite.

"Are you sure you don't want any?" she asked, bemused.

Finally, he turned and gave her something like a leer, studying her as though she were some kind of interesting, ugly beast, and then he reached out and stole her onigiri right out of her hands. Before she could utter a complaint, he had stuffed it into his mouth whole.

His eyes widened as he chewed, and for a moment, Hinata was sure he would choke. He didn't, instead, he swallowed quickly and went back to staring longingly after her food.

She lifted her egg to her lips again, took a bite, and the minute she'd swallowed it he'd stolen the rest. The pattern continued to the last rice ball, at which point she sighed exasperatedly. Taking the ball, she broke it in half, took a slow bite out of one half, and handed that one to him. He took it from her and ate this one slowly, closing his eyes so tightly that all she saw of his eyes was a thick, dark line.

"Do you like it?" she asked quietly, stacking her bento again. He ignored her and crossed his arms, satiated.

"Make the same thing tomorrow."

It was the first time she'd heard him speak above a murmur, and she found herself even more intrigued. The sound was deep and somehow soft while still retaining a husky quality. Low and slightly guttural, like a growl, but not quite. His words came out in a seemingly flat snarl that was slow and strangely sexy.

Nevertheless, her smile faltered, because he was looking at her again so intently.

"I-I usually bring something different on Tuesdays," she muttered, trying to break from his gaze and failing. A flush rose to her cheeks when he raised a brow. "It'll be as good, I promise."

He grunted, a disbelieving glower in his eyes, and then closed his eyes again.

*

It wasn't until she had returned home to the Hyuga compound before she realized something shocking. Although she had passed him several times in the halls and seen him in class, not once had she really thought about Naruto that day. She had watched absentmindedly as he cuffed Sasuke on the shoulder, his bright blonde hair obscuring his eyes, but she had not marveled at his strong-looking arms or his cerulean colored eyes.

Instead, she had planned the next day's lunch.


	2. The Rival Appears

Chapter Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **

Thank you so much for the reviews! Really, every single one of them counts. I have a lot going on right now, with school and whatnot (only 5 more days!), and my summer is horrible. But I'm going to try my hardest to still update.

I'm wondering how long this story is going to be. I'm not looking to write anything involving, so expect a story that is almost 100% romance and almost no action, unless it, you know, helps with the romance. :D

Also, how fast do you want this story to move? So far, it seems pretty fast. Tell me if I should slow down or speed up, plois.

And, and…enjoy! (I guessh)

**Disclaimer: **If I was Kishimoto-sama, I would totally put Gaara and Hinata or Hinata and Sasuke together. Unfortunately, I'm not, so I have to make-believe in fanfiction. *sighs*

Gaara's behavior made him even more interesting to Hinata. He only spoke in class when Kurenai-sensei asked him a question, and even then his answer was terse and always correct. The other students quickly lost interest. The boys, instead, spent whole periods whispering about Gaara's pretty sister's rather generous assets. Hinata was sure Gaara could hear them. Every time Kiba or Shikamaru made a less-than-modest comment about Temari's voluptuous figure, a corner of his mouth would twitch up in something like a smirk.

When school ended and the young soon-to-be genin began pouring out, he finally stood. Hinata, who still gathered her books, had to force her gaze down to avoid watching his slow, graceful assent, to keep from looking too long at his smooth, sinuous arms as he tossed the gourd back over his back.

He had paused, though. She heard the silence, the prolonged quiet that said that he had not moved. Slowly, she risked a glimpse upward.

His eyes locked onto hers coolly, the stare unwavering. The flush rose steadily in her cheeks and she rubbed her neck. Really, if he were any less gorgeous, she might not be so flustered. If his stares were just a little less intense…

She averted her eyes. "See you tomorrow, then, Sabaku-san."

She tossed her backpack onto her back and rushed out the door. The moment she had reached the halls, she activated Neji's jutsu again, this time keeping her Byakugan fully activated and not once daring to blink. She could just make out the forms of people watching her. For a moment, she thought she spied a flash of red, black, and gold. And then it was gone, flickering away faster than any of the other shapes.

She shuddered.

*

Gaara let his gaze wander lazily to his side. His feet tapped against the kitchen floor. A strange, hungry feeling was quickly overcoming him, and his sand was responding by dancing in quick, sharp turns around him. He scowled when he felt Temari flinch beside him. She knew he wouldn't hurt her—the Gaara he was now was not _that _heartless—but she had never been able to shake off that fear.

That girl, the one with the pale eyes, had none of that fear.

She was an outsider too. He could tell, because none of her classmates paid her much attention, and if she ever activated her bloodline limit a few would glare at her patronizingly, jealous that she was blessed with anything worthwhile. He didn't understand why, but didn't care to. What he wished to know was how she could ignore the fact that she was unwanted and still be so kind, so gentle. He remembered how quickly she had figured out that he only ate after other people, how she had taken that slow, tentative bite out of the rice ball before handing it to him. He had a feeling that if he told her why he had developed that habit, she would understand, more than anyone else.

"What's up?" Temari said. She seemed to be begging for forgiveness by acting so nonchalant. "You thinking about something?"

Gaara shrugged, stepping up to the door of their apartment and turning the lock, "Nothing," he said shortly. Kankuro smirked.

"Doesn't sound like nothing," he said, although Gaara's voice was so flat and unemotional that it was hard to see how Kankuro had come to such a conclusion, but Gaara didn't bother complaining. "Meet a girl?"

Gaara started, his composure breaking for a moment. He put himself back together in a flash, but his siblings noticed, and were now staring at him with expressions somewhere between amusement and shock.

"No way," Kankuro said, staring at his brother with wide eyes. "Nuh-uh. No way."

Temari quickly closed her mouth and grinned. "What are you trying to say, Kankuro? Little bro can't like girls?"

Kankuro shook his head. "Nah, man," he said, addressing Gaara this time, "It's not like I think you're gay or anything. Just thought, you know, you didn't like either. Asexual. Like a sponge."

Gaara raised an eyebrow, unable to hide his amusement. "A sponge."

Kankuro blushed, flustered—the aftereffects of the previous shock. "You know what I mean. I didn't think you were…into that stuff."

"I _am_ a man," Gaara countered. He was a little annoyed now. "I just happen to be more selective than you."

At this, Temari burst out laughing and shuffled through the cupboard, pulling out three bowls of instant noodles. She poured hot water from a kettle into two, but Gaara stopped her before she could get to the third.

"I've already eaten," he said. He stood up slowly and walked over to his room. He knew that if he stayed, they would ask questions. Gaara of the Sand did not lie, not when he could help it.

*

The next day, Hinata brought him a very interesting dish. It had a slightly crunchy crust that was soft on the inside, tomato sauce spread all over it, and cheese. It was delicious.

She called it pizza.

She took a healthy bite from it first, and then handed it to him to finish it off. Looking down at it, he stared at the ring made by her teeth, at the imperceptibly wet edges that her tongue had traced. She smiled and watched him expectantly, and he had eaten.

And then, she began to talk, and he thought he could see a window through to her soul.

She talked about her family a lot. About how she had finally, finally gained acceptance, about how she had once been so horribly weak that they had spoken of given her inheritance to her sister. How she had trained, day in and day out, from sunrise to sunset, making herself conquer her fear. How she had taught herself not to stutter, and how she no longer depended on anyone for anything.

He had found it hard to see her as weak—when she sparred the movements were too smooth, too fast, and too intelligent. In their class she was one of the most formidable. Weak? She was so strong…

She had talked about her ni-san, who protected her diligently and loved her like a brother, and always treated her as though she were a little porcelain doll, something she appreciated but still hated.

Once, she had talked about a boy named Naruto. About his strength, about how she had worked so very hard to emulate it. There was a hint of admiration in her voice as she spoke that made him stiffen, but it fizzled away and he was satisfied.

All the while, she was taking slow bites from her pizza, occasionally handing some to him. Every now and then, their fingertips touched.

His sand didn't once jump between them.

He couldn't stop staring at her. At her skin, just a tad bit darker than his, at her dark, almost black hair that seemed to glisten with blue highlights. At her lips, full, pink, and very, very cute. At her eyes, endless and cloudy and mysterious. Empty, like his, except when he looked closer he knew they were filled.

He wanted to look at her forever, to always watch her.

*

Hinata left the Academy half-flustered. That day, the look Gaara had given her was so…different. Before, when their eyes met, she was met with a fearsome, intimidating glower. Now, although it always seemed to be set in a half-glare, there was something softer about his gaze. It melted her insides completely.

They had touched a few times, accidental brushes, except when it grew more frequent, she wondered whether it was accidental at all. His skin was as smooth to the touch as she had imagined, unmarred by nature and essentially baby-soft. He never turned away from her, even when she began rambling, which she'd done to introduce some noise. But he still hadn't spoken, except to tell her to bring something tomorrow, too.

But she had noticed something else, too, about the kids in the classroom.

They had all been looking at her today.

A few months ago, this fact would have made her ecstatic. She would have dreamed of going on dates with newfound "girlfriends", of having sparring buddies other than Neji and Tenten outside of school, of pulling silly teenage pranks on the other citizens of Konoha. Ding-dong ditching. Prank calls. The whole nine yards.

But now, it bothered her. It said that something was amiss.

She found out what the next day.

*

"Why?" Sakura cried, tears running in torrents down her face. Her cheeks were bright pink, several shades darker than her hair, and very unbecoming on her features. The cries wracked her body in waves.

Sasuke looked down at her coldly, annoyed by her crying. "I told you already. I like someone else."

When she responded with another wail, he cringed. "You're being ridiculous. When we started going out, I told you I'd _try it out_. You agreed that if I didn't like what I was getting, I could walk out. I'm walking out."

The worst of the storm had passed, but tears still streaked uncontrollably down Sakura's face. The man she had loved for as long as she remembered, who she had worked long and hard to obtain, was dropping her, just like that. Without a second thought. Ino was right. Sasuke really was a filthy bastard.

"You're heartless," she whispered.

"I told you about that too," he said. And he had. When she had asked him out for the billionth time, he had warned her that she would not be happy with him. That he was a horrible, terrible boyfriend and wasn't planning on changing his ways for a short high school romance. He hadn't even _kissed _her.

"Who is it, then?" Sakura said, composure finally attained, though her body still trembled.

"Why should I tell you? So you can go torment her?"

Sakura turned the color of puce. "So I can go warn her about you!"

He grinned. "The Hyuuga."

It took a moment for his words to register. The moment they had, Sakura blanched. "H-Hinata?" she mouthed. Her hands clapped to her cheeks. "Hinata-san?" She thought of the innocent, quiet girl who sat in the back with Sabaku and flinched. Sakura didn't know her well, but she was pretty and too gentle. She would have been likeable if she wasn't so damn shy. Like a flower, she needed to be treated gently, with care.

Sasuke would rip her apart.

She told him so.

"I don't hurt the ones I love," he had responded, and at that, Sakura's love turned to a bitter, black hatred and she turned away.

"I hope she hurts you," she whispered, "and I hope you die from it."

"You better not tell anyone."

She sneered. "I'll tell _everyone._"

Sasuke walked in front of her, bending down to her eye level. He didn't look threatened at all and this, for Sakura, was more frustrating than their break-up. "Fine, then. Do it. I don't care that much."

"Bastard," she spat in his face. He grinned.

"Yeah," he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping off her spittle. "I am."

**

The next day, as Hinata walked into the classroom, she felt all eyes trained on her, Kurenai-sensei's included. There was something expectant about their stares, and it made Hinata blush with embarrassment and shuffle back to her seat. Gaara was staring at her too, but this time, his stare had turned into something frightening and primal and violent.

He was not happy, not at all. His anger was the first emotion she had been able to read so clearly. He wore it openly, and as a result he looked more demonic than usual. His jaw was firmly set and his lips pressed into a line. His brown was creased and angry.

The moment she'd put her bags down, Ino had turned around in her seat to beam up at Hinata.

"Hon," Ino said, grinning genuinely, "I'm so jealous of you. How'd you do it?"

Hinata blinked. "D-do what?"

Ino winked, and beside her Hinata was sure that Gaara had growled faintly.

At that exact moment, a little boy no taller than five feet hobbled into the room under the weight of a huge bouquet of pure white roses. He said something to Kurenai-sensei, who pointed down the row to where Hinata was sitting. He placed the flowers gently on Hinata's desk, tucked a card into the heart of the flowers, bowed, and raced out of the classroom like a lamb in a lion's den.

For a moment, she was frozen, completely unbelieving. White roses were the rarest and most expensive in Konoha, and she had received more than a dozen. They were the symbol of love, not just the innocent kind or lust, but the type of love that was a combination of the two.

In other words, this person loved her for her _and _thought she was hot.

"W-wait!" Hinata called after the boy, "This can't be…can't be right."

She stared at the flowers with a look of dumb shock on her face. They gave off a gentle, wafting scent.

"You've got the wrong person," she muttered to no one in particular. "I don't have anyone who would…"

"The customer bought those from our store last night," Ino said, proud to be in on something so secret. Sakura stiffened beside her friend, but otherwise maintained her composure. "I can't tell you who it is until you read the letter."

Hinata reached for the envelope nervously, but at that moment, two things happened. First, the bell rang, sharply announcing the beginning of class. Second, Gaara had grabbed her wrist, keeping her from touching the card.

She had never felt so much of him.

She lifted her eyes to his and saw a storm brewing.

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed it! Just wanted to give a great, big thanks to all of my reviewers—I mean, 8 in one day? What more can I ask for? You guys are the reason I'm even doing this!

I smell a love triangle…

It's funny, because at this point, I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to let this work out. I want Hinata to end up being very conflicted…without sounding whorish or ridiculously indecisive. Suggestions?

:D

L8r G8rz…


	3. Warnings

Chapter Three

**Disclaimer : **If Naruto was mine, I'd kill off all of the annoying, superfluous characters, destroy all fillers, and completely turn Naruto into a total hunk. Unfortunately, I don't, so the annoying, superfluous characters still exist, fillers run rampant, and Naruto is still a slightly awkward teenage boy who likes to wear bright orange jumpsuits. *sighs*

A/N: Sorry if you love those annoying, superfluous characters, guys. Just remember that I'm not so much in love with the series as with the solid, wonderful characters.

Thanks again for the reviews!! I couldn't respond to all of them at once, but for the long ones, I'll be sure to! :D

Crystaldrops14: eh-heheheh…I need Gaara to be a bit OOC. I need him to really get the possessiveness going pretty soon… This chappie, in terms of OOC-ness, is prolly worse.

Basium1: Please don't do _what?_ Naruto? Pssht. He doesn't matter much. The crush basically fizzles in a vat of acid when Sasuke and Gaara become the real "choices." Erm, read on to find out about what Sakura does, I guess!

Hitenisababe: Read…read….and then review

Winterkagura: I seriously love your reviews! They're so nice and lengthy and make me feel loved.

Fanea: OMG. I got a HUGE smile on my face when I read your review. That makes this venture totally worth it, you know? And…wait! I actually really like SasuHina. I was so indecisive about whether to make this SasuHina or GaaHina that in the end, I made a love triangle that'll have a bit of each in it. I would've added NejiHina too, but that'd get a bit complicated and just a bit gross.

Btw, I decided just to update as I go. I'll keep a space of maybe, like, five days between each chapter so I can reap up reviews (I love reviews.) My friends are laughing incredulously at me right now. I think it'll be a joke for the next few years about how I'm writing Naruto fanfics…

:D

"Don't," he said to her coolly, "Class is about to start."

She couldn't speak. She could hardly breathe. She knew her face was turning impossibly red, but there was no longer any reason to deny that she was horribly attracted to Sabaku-san. The sensations his simple touch were stirring up in her were a million times stronger than those she had felt with Naruto, and they made her feel faint despite her newfound strength. Dumbly, she stared down at his hand.

He let her go, finger by finger, and then snatched the envelope out of the bouquet and tucked it into his shirt. Hinata was about to complain, but when he had snapped out his collar she had caught a rather nice sneak peek of his chest and was effectively awed into silence. She gulped.

"If I don't take this," he said, "You _will_ cheat."

He was talking. Why was he suddenly talking? And on top of that, his words sounded like amateur flirting—if his face hadn't been so straight, she would have thought he was hitting on her. She wished he wouldn't. Everything about him made her lose concentration.

"I just want to know, Sabaku-san," she said pleadingly. "This might never happen to me again."

His eyes flitted to the flowers, and a strange sort of angry possessiveness overcame him. How long had he been in Konoha? Three days? Four? It didn't matter. He did _not _want to see her with anyone else. And to see that someone else was attempting to woo her, even though she was _his, _was deplorable. Of course, she did not know yet. He pondered on whether to tell her, to make her understand so she wouldn't be tempted to wander too far from him.

His eyes strayed to her lips and lingered there.

Kurenai-sensei had begun her lecture. Gaara ignored Hinata's pleading eyes and turned to the teacher, barely listening and yet somehow managing to scratch out all of his notes.

Hinata endured his teasing until it was nearly lunchtime, trying her hardest to pay attention herself. Soon, however, the suspense came to be too much for her and she tried to get her card back once more.

"Sabaku-san," she whispered, "_Please._"

The corners of his mouth twitched upward, something that was not lost on the Hyuuga, but he ignored her.

She sighed. "G-Gaara-kun," she said sternly, quietly, "Please give it back."

Gaara froze. His eyes widened, the green surrounded completely in white, and he reached out and grasped the desk to keep himself rooted to the spot. He could feel the Shukaku stirring inside her, not yearning for blood this time but for woman-flesh. The sensation was alien and he bit his lips together to keep from groaning aloud. Behind him, his gourd shuddered, and he turned quickly away from her.

No one, save his siblings, had ever addressed him by simply "Gaara." He would never have allowed it—it was Sabaku-san or nothing at all. But, for some reason, hearing her utter his name had awakened something primal in him.

She watched his reaction with a mixture of triumph and confusion. He had buckled as though she had hurt him, but the shudder that rode down his back seemed anything but painful. Instead, it looked as though it had felt sinfully good, horribly good. He looked like a vampire holding himself back after tasting a hint of sweet blood, or an aroused incubus trying, and failing, to practice self control.

Neither of them noticed when the rest of the class was dismissed for lunch. The moment the last student had left the room, Gaara came to a resolution.

As she stood, he reached for her wrist again, half-paralyzing it in his grip. It hurt, but she refused to show it and the only reason why he loosened his hold was that her skin had already started bruising.

"My card," she said softly, but daringly. He grinned.

"No."

A flush rose to her cheeks. "Why not?"

He ignored the question. "Go get our lunch."

Hinata blushed. _Not mine. Not yours. Ours._

"Give it back first."

They stared at each other for a solid minute, both unrelenting. The glare was so unbecoming on her face—of course, she was still angelic, still beautiful to him, but it didn't suit her. He wanted to see that small smile or that sad, pensive expression or that look of curiosity or kindness or desire that usually characterized her face.

He pulled out the collar of his shirt. "Come get it then, Hyuuga-san."

She looked away and turned bright pink. He _was _teasing her. She wouldn't have thought him capable. "A-ano…"

Gaara leaned backward in his chair, tousling his dark red hair. His shirt lifted slightly, and Hinata barely spied the end of the letter peaking out from the end of his shirt. She looked down at it, the heat rising steadily to her face, and he stared back coolly, nearly expressionless but for the slight tilt of his jaw. He raised his eyebrow expectantly.

He was daring her.

Inhaling quickly, she darted down and grabbed the letter from under his shirt, her fingers brushing lightly against the skin there. Gaara inhaled sharply. It was one thing to never be touched, but, more specifically, he had never been touched _there._

The Shukaku stirred again, watching her as she pushed the card into her jacket pocket and rushed out of the classroom. The way she ran, Gaara would think that she was running away from him. But he could still not sense any fear. Only triumph that she had gotten the card and embarrassment about the manner in which she had retrieved it.

He grinned, something he did not do often. Was there anyone in the world more perfect for him?

*

Hinata hurried into the hall, waiting until she was fairly far from the room before ripping open the envelope. The card was pastel blue and very simple, and she yanked it out excitedly and opened it.

Her eyes skimmed over the words and she pursed her lips.

_Please meet me at the Ichiraku's this Saturday at seven p.m. You can come equipped if you don't trust me, but I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. Please come. I have something very important to tell you._

A date. Had she just been asked out? She didn't know how to react. In some ways, it was incredibly romantic- the white, white roses, the freshman delivery boy, the small envelope. In others, it seemed like the mark of a coward. She knew, of course, that she was being a hypocrite—after all, she had liked Naruto for so long that she couldn't quite pinpoint when she realized it was only a crush, and yet she'd never told him so. She'd at one point considered this cowardice, but had later forgiven herself. Perhaps this person was like her—far too shy for his own good.

As she sprinted to her locker to get her…_their…_lunch, she made a single mistake that, if she were in a life/death situation, would have certainly been fatal.

She failed to look behind her.

Because if she did, she may have noticed the strange, floating eyeball that hung over her shoulder, trailing sand.

***

Hinata opened up her bento, placing the bottom layer down delicately. She smiled slyly up at Gaara as she did, and he raised an eyebrow as he snapped his chopsticks apart, peering over her shoulder to see the food. She'd made onigiri again, but this time she had shaped them into cute faces. His eyes widened and he almost smiled as he looked at them, separated onto two sides.

"These," she said, giggling to herself, "are yours." She pointed to the riceballs closest to him, obviously tickled by his incredulous reaction. The balls were shaped into near perfect circles, and she had used seaweed to delicately draw the outlines of his tired eyes, putting super-thin, small slices of melon for the green irises and carrot shavings for his hair. The seaweed mouth was turned downwards a little.

Closest to her, she had made her own riceball-minis, using a similar structure for the face and more seaweed for the hair. Hers were adorable as well, but it was obvious that she had not spent as much time on them—they looked rushed.

Gaara looked down, bemused, at his minis, and then picked one up and handed it to her. Used to the routine, she took it from him and took a small bite from it. He took it back from her, eating it slowly for once, as though he wished it could last forever. She laughed at him, and then picked up her Hinata-shaped ball.

"You know," Hinata thought aloud, "Sabaku-san, you're always eating after me. I make enough for two, and I end up eating more than my share." She held up one of her riceballs and put it inches before his nose. "Eat some of mine."

This time, Gaara did smile. Leaning his head forward, he ate the riceball from her hand, bite by tortuous bite. At first, Hinata laughed, tickled by the fact that she was feeding him. When it was near gone, however, he let himself taste _her, _sucking the fingers in just a little. She squealed and tried to withdraw her hand, but he grabbed it and pulled it to him, tracing his tongue around her fingers, searching for every last grain. A deep red flush had risen almost completely to Hinata's face, and her breathing sounded labored. He grinned again. Was she as aroused by this as he was? If so, he certainly wouldn't keep her waiting.

She finally managed to wrestle her hand away, looking flustered and shocked. He watched as she gulped a few times to regain her composure, looking down at her lap instead of at him. Nervously, her gaze flickered up again and she found him still looking at her intently. This time, the smile was not her imagination. It was there, of course, but it was frightening rather than endearing.

And breathtaking. It was certainly breathtaking.

Hinata took a deep breath and wiped her fingers off in her lap as nonchalantly as she could, trying to smile as she ate one of her own riceballs. But her brow was creased and confused, and although she tried to hide it, her body trembled and quaked.

**********

Hinata had to move quickly. Her father could not, by any means, know where she was headed, or she would definitely not be allowed to leave. She didn't intend to meet her secret admirer in her thick jacket and waist-to-toe jeans—heavens no. Hinata Hyuuga had a body and knew it, but she only liked to reveal it on certain, special occasions.

After a little consideration, she decided that _this _counted as a special occasion.

She slipped into a dark blue summer dress that was not revealing in the slightest but showed the world that, yes, she did have curves. Nervously, she wore her jeans underneath and tucked the skirts in carefully, before zipping up her jacket. It was hot and uncomfortable, but she had to leave the compound this way to avoid being questioned.

As she left her room, she considered activating Neji's jutsu to escape faster, but knew that this would only arouse unwanted suspicions. So, as surreptitiously as she could manage, Hinata tiptoed out, looking for all the world as though she were only leaving for an evening stroll.

When Hinata had walked past the guards, she burst into a full-blown sprint, forgetting Neji's jutsu altogether and moving purely on her own physical strength, forgetting that she would be sweaty and disgusting soon if she was careful.

Behind her, she heard the low rumbling of an engine, and flitted away just in time for a car to glide past her. The driver, pissed, waved angrily at her. She slowed to a stop. Really, this was ridiculous. She felt like such a guilty child. Really, she hadn't done anything wrong. Technically, she was only meeting a new friend at the ramen stop, not spending the whole night dancing and making out at a club. Everyone would see them anyway. There was nothing to hide.

By the time she had come to this realization, she'd already reached town, and Ichiraku's was within her sight. She glanced down at her watch. 6:53.

Quickly, she darted into the Yamanaka's flower shop and rushed into the bathroom. She tore off the jacket quickly, and then pulled down the jeans, letting her dress fall to her knees. Shaking herself off, she finger-combed her hair, double checked her mascara, redid her chapstick, stuffed her clothes into her bag and whizzed out of the door so quickly that all Ino saw of her was a dark blue blur.

She wound the corner to Ichiraku's and walked up to the counter, where the Old Man was cooking up a huge pot full of ramen. She glanced around quickly. Only two other people were at the counter, and they were both older women buying take-out. The Old Man nodded good-naturedly at her, and she smiled before taking her seat at her stool.

"Hyuuga-san. You came."

Hinata scrunched her nose, confused. This was not a boy's voice. It was a girl, and it was girl she knew. She turned her head. Haruno Sakura took her seat next to her, her hair up in a messy bun. She gave her a gentle smile and turned to her.

Hinata felt her heart sinking rapidly. Her secret admirer—was Sakura?

"Before you ask," Sakura said, reading the expression on Hinata's face clearly, "I didn't send the flowers."

Hinata relaxed, but there was still something irking her. "But you sent the note?"

Sakura nodded. Flashing her movie-star smile again, she leaned forward in her seat and rested her elbows on the counter. "I know, it's horrible. I shouldn't have done it. But I wanted to tell you something."

"You couldn't have asked me in the halls?" Hinata asked calmly, although there was an angry color rising to her face. She had been so excited, she'd rushed here so quickly, even dressed nicely…

"No," Sakura admitted with a sigh. "_He'd _be listening."

"Who's he?"

For a moment, Sakura was silent. She bit her lips and looked down in thought. Then, smiling brightly again, she said, "I'll tell you in a minute. Meantime, since I dragged you down here this way, why don't I treat you?"

Hinata nodded, accepting the offer but still not completely satisfied. While they waited, she let Sakura do the talking, and the conversation was fairly mundane and she inputted very little. When the Old Man moved forward with two heaping, steaming bowls of ramen, Hinata was intensely relieved.

"Itadakimasu," Sakura said cheerfully, snapping open her chopsticks.

Hinata narrowed her eyes, snapped hers open, and then placed them down again.

"Haruno-san," she said quietly, "You didn't call me out so that we could have a pleasant chat and dinner. I didn't even know we were…" she pursed her lips.

_I didn't even know we were friends._

Sakura swallowed slowly, waving enthusiastically at Shino and Kiba as they passed. Hinata smiled softly at them, and then turned her energies back toward the pink-haired girl again.

"I know who sent the flowers," she said, taking a deep breath, "and I came to warn you about him."

Immediately, Hinata's interest was piqued, but, like a true Hyuuga, she turned away and hid her excitement with an unassuming, "Oh."

Sakura looked obviously disappointed by the less-than-enthusiastic response, but she went on bravely, holding up her chin.

"He's a horrible person. He's good-looking, of course…actually," here, Sakura blushed and scowled at once, "he's gorgeous. But he doesn't care about anyone but himself. He uses his girlfriends like trophies—he'll tote them about, push them around, and they'll take it because they're so devoted to him. And then, when he's tired of them, he drops them.

"He breaks them. And he doesn't care, at all, how much it hurts. He doesn't distinguish between girls—all he cares about is that we've all got pussies. I would know. I dated him."

Sakura turned away, her brows furrowed in an intense, undisguised disgust. Hinata's mouth formed an 'o', her chopsticks dropping from her fingers. The only person Sakura had dated or wished to date since they joined the Academy was the Uchiha. Hinata had only been with him a handful of times—paired on field trips or for assignments, and once they had sparred. But otherwise, she saw very little of him.

But no one else made sense. The Uchiha was notorious for being a playboy, and a very stoic one at that. His methods seemed a little warped from the proposed Casanova stereotype—rather than being suave and flattering, he was brusque and horrible and uncaring. That didn't stop legions of girls from lusting after him.

"A-are," she stammered, "are you talking about Uchiha-san?"

Sakura nodded once, slowly.

"Uchiha-san sent me the flowers?" Hinata asked again, still incredulous. It didn't even sound plausible.

"He did," she said, nodding again.

"Uchiha-san _likes _me?"

Sakura shrugged. Sasuke had used the word "like," something unusual for him, since he didn't like anything. In face, in reference to Hinata, he had dared to even say "love."

"Yes."

"How do you even know?"

"He told me."

Hinata slumped her seat, effectively shocked into silence. It didn't seem possible, let alone probable, for Uchiha-san to feel _anything _for her. Maybe Kiba or Shino—they had teamed with her in Junior High and they had grown rather close. Maybe even Naruto, even though Hinata knew better than anyone that the blonde only had eyes for Sakura. But Uchiha-san?

"…Why?" she whispered after a while. She looked gloomily down at her bowl of ramen. "Why would he like me?"

It was then that she realized that Sakura had frozen, and that her eyes were no longer on Hinata. Her chopsticks dropped from her fingers and clattered to the counter, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Hyuuga-san," a voice said in a low growl, "Does there have to be a reason?"

**A/N: **Ooo… cliffy! Sorry if this seems rushed in certain parts. I'm going to be very honest about one thing, though. Because this isn't my main work, I'm not going to be very picky about the plot. So, if I seem to fast-forward through some places, it's because I want to get to the juice and don't particularly feel like pacing myself.

So sorry.

What I should tell you is that I have a book out. Not a fanfiction, but a book. It's titled _Devoted_, and it's on and .

I'm trying to get an agent for it right now, mostly running on the awesomeness of the fact that I'm 16, and I need all the support I can get.

So…if you need a read, please check it out. My writing is considerably better in that, and I'm also a lot more long-winded. :D It's kind of my pride-and-joy.

If you want, I'll post a sample chapter, but you have to tell me in your reviews.

Love you all!


	4. Why?

Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I can't own Naruto. I think Sasuke could, though…

A/N: Sorry that this took so long to update… I was gone for a week, and then super tired too. :D

Wow! I literally got 4 reviews only 2 hrs. after posting the last chapter! That feels… so GOOD! I generally like to stay one chapter ahead (I type two and post one), but because I feel so loved, I'm posting this one right away!

I'm going to write beautiful, long replies to my first 4! 3

Winter Ink : Why, thank you. Right now, I'm only self-published, so I'm trying desperately to get a traditional publisher—school, SATs, SAT IIs, etc. haven't exactly been helpful, though. My writing style is constantly evolving, something that's both good and bad… but I'm glad you think it's good! (I, for one, am still convinced that I am decent crap. In other words, crappy, but not so crappy that you can't read it.) :D Runaway writers are annoying for me too. I'll try to avoid becoming one. Really, I don't exactly know how this story will turn out just yet. I'm making it up as I go, so…

Faenea: Yes, I love the eating scene too. I was tittering the entire time I wrote it. *tee hee* You can check it out on and . Type in "Devoted by Shirlene Obuobi" and it should come up. On amazon there's a "Look Inside" option. I will totally include a sample chapter. One of these days, I'll just post two chapters at once. One will be some "Forever Elusive" to satisfy my lovelies, and the other an actual chapter. I really want people to read _Devoted, _so I appreciate your interest sooo much!

Winterkaguya: OMG you wrote me a book! I love you! I don't particularly want Sakura to come across as a total sleaze…I'm actually kind of sick of fanfics doing that. So, basically, you got her down to a 't.' :D Oops! Did I do a cliché? Dammit, I've been trying to avoid those. Well, I think Hinata is in the limelight because she's had encounters with Gaara, and Gaara has to be in the limelight (kinda) because he's new and different. And yes! I love developing the characters' relationships

Also:

WhiteDemoness11: I really don't know what to be more excited about--- the fact that a h.s. teacher is complimenting my work (what do u teach, btdubs?) or the fact that you called my Gaara the sexiest. I'm so glad!

Hinata turned around slowly and caught the cold, dark eyes of Uchiha Sasuke staring down at her. He smirked. She shuddered, but that didn't keep a flush from rising to her cheeks.

Uchiha-san and Sabaku-san were so alike in so many ways. They were both pale as death, and, she was embarrassed to note, had very similar builds, although Uchiha-san seemed a little less lean and a little more muscular. Both of them had eyes of such a pure, flat color that they were entrancing and terrifying—Uchiha-san's were such an unforgiving black that they seemed like endless tunnels.

And, unfortunately, both were so unbearably beautiful that she had to look away to keep her composure.

Sakura jolted up in her seat. "Why are you here?" she said, and there was an edge of hysteria in her voice.

He raised an eyebrow slowly, uncaringly, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I'm meeting the person I like for a date." He held up a pastel blue card and waved it and both Sakura and Hinata gasped. "Clever of you to send this. Too bad Hyuuga-san litters."

He turned to Hinata, and she looked back at him, still confused and slightly embarrassed. She must have dropped the card earlier…

"Uchiha-san," she said cordially. _I am Hyuuga. Where is my poise?_

"Hyuuga-san." He nodded his head in a half-bow and smirked.

"Why?" she finally blurted out, and he quickly put a finger to her lips. She flushed, looking up at him with confusion.

"I'll answer that later," he said, and then looked down at Sakura again. "Why are you still here? You've tried to sabotage me already, and you've failed. Go away."

Sakura glared venomously up at him and hopped off her stool. She slapped down a few bills on the counter slung her bag over her shoulder. She turned to Hinata.

"Don't forget a word I've said," she warned, and then walked away.

The moment she had left, Hinata yearned for her presence again. Being alone with the Uchiha was unsettling. Of course, she was curious about him, but it was well known that curiosity killed the cat. Nothing made sense to her.

"Sakura's gone now," Hinata said, once the pink-haired kunoichi had disappeared from sight. "Can you tell me why now?"

He grinned. It was strange, because she had never seen him really smile before this. He had smirked, sure, but that was mocking and not warm. But the look he had given her before was so gentle that it transformed him into someone completely different.

"Can I take you on a _real _date first? Seriously, did you think I'd ask a girl to Ichiraku's?"

Despite herself, Hinata smiled. "According to Sakura, there isn't a girl you'd bother taking _anywhere_."

He held out his hand for her to take, and she looked down at it, confusion renewed. It seemed strange to hold it—after all, she didn't really know him and his action seemed incongruous with her words. He was persistent, though, keeping his hand outreached for a full minute, grinning at her.

Slowly, she took it. He grinned even wider and squeezed it.

"Was that so hard?" he whispered. Hinata turned away, her face flushed.

They started walking.

"Uchiha-san," Hinata asked, "Please answer me."

Sasuke chuckled. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

She pursed her lips and let him swing their hands forward, clutching her bag in the other. She could see the other girls passing them, giving them looks that ranged from despair to hatred to glee. She could almost feel their envy.

"Because," Hinata said, "This," she held up their hands, "doesn't make sense to me."

He nodded, finally looking a little serious, and then sighed. "You're different."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Everyone is different."

Sasuke laughed, and she felt his hand squeeze hers. "No. In many ways, they're the same. Some a bit more annoying than others, but otherwise, there's no difference."

She laughed harshly, turning away from him. "So you like me because I'm a novelty? What if I end up like all of them too? Lusting after you, or whatnot?"

He scowled now and walked a little bit faster. His thin, black muscle shirt was slightly wet with perspiration, and she could see the outlines of every muscle in his chest.

"There's more to you than that," he said. He dropped her hand, and then turned her around to face him, to look into his eyes.

**

Temari stirred spoonful after spoonful of sugar into her cup of tea, watching the liquid ripple and spin as she stirred it. In the few days they had been in Konoha, she had become a horrible sweet tooth. She'd always known she was prone to it—as a child she had very little self control and thus could never be found without a lollipop or some chocolate. But as the years passed she had learned to control herself, more or less, in Suna. Something about the carefree attitude in Konoha made her lose a bit of her discipline.

"Where's Gaara?" she asked Kankuro as he walked in. He watched her in awe as she dropped more sugar into her drink, and then shook his head in a mixture of amusement and confusion.

"Comatose," he answered, "Sitting in his room. He wouldn't let me in. Wonder what the hell he's doing in there."

"Sitting?" Temari asked. Kankuro was plenty of things, but dumb usually wasn't one of them. Dropping her voice to a low whisper, "Do you know whether he's got any sand out?"

Kankuro nodded. "All over the place. I could feel it outside, too."

"Outside?" Temari asked in horror. She wanted to trust her little brother, but knowing what he was _capable _of, and knowing that he certainly wasn't afraid of living up to those capabilities, was terrifying.

Kankuro shrugged. "He doesn't have a reason to go after anyone here, ne-chan."

He gave her a long, cold look and turned away. Temari sighed, letting her spoon lean against the side of her mug for a moment. She knew she ought to trust that her youngest brother had changed, but something feral had returned to his eyes and he seemed to be closing himself again, distancing himself. He was behaving exactly as he had frequently as a child, shutting himself off.

So who could blame her if she was worried? She tried to tell herself this, to remind herself that Gaara was not entirely innocent even now.

But this still didn't keep her from feeling horribly guilty.

**

His siblings' words were little more than a buzzing undertone—he heard the concern, felt the fear, but he chose to ignore it. He had a far more important task at hand. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Gaara closed his eyes and kept his hands held at his chest in an uncomfortable seal, one that had to be held for hours on end if he wished to extend his reach to far distances.

After reading (and rereading) the Hyuuga's note, he had been sure to send some more sand out to Ichiraku's, just to keep watch—and perhaps to pulverize the impertinent bastard who dared encroach on _his _territory. Instead of a boy, however, he was surprised when that pink-haired girl from their class showed up. From so far, he could only pick up snippets of their conversation, but what he heard was both unacceptable and relieving. The pink-haired girl was _not _on the side of his rival. But she had said something about this other man's indelicacy, his uncaringness. She had said he would _break _his Hinata. And this, Gaara could not, _would _not, tolerate.

His displeasure peaked when the boy arrived, when he shooed off the other girl and dared touch his Hinata, dared take her hand so intimately in his. The anger shot through his veins like an illicit drug and his eyes shot open, his brow already creased with fury.

_Uchiha-san will pay. _

**

"Last year, do you remember when we sparred?" Sasuke's grip on her shoulders was strong, keeping Hinata rooted. She nodded dumbly, recalling the event.

It had been part of an end-of-year activity. The individual classes were accustomed to sparring amongst themselves, but this grew dull because they were limited to non-fatal moves and had, over time, learned almost every upcoming shinobi's techniques. As a way to break the seemingly endless monotony, Kurenai-sensei and Kakashi-sensei had decided to merge rooms for a Tournament of sorts. Each student drew from a hat his opponent.

Somehow, Hinata had managed to pull Uchiha-san.

At first, she was terrified. She had, for almost two years, been practicing wildly, strengthening herself and preparing herself, becoming a kunoichi worthy of the Hyuuga name. But no amount of training could completely eradicate the fear in the pit of her belly. She had seen the Uchiha fight before, and he was brutal and rash, much like Naruto except smarter. Which also made him deadlier.

Nevertheless, she had given it all she had. He had come at her with the illegal moves and she had dodged them, responding by drawing the water from the nearby stream to extinguish his fires and pellet him, wearing him down. He had resorted to punches and kicks, some of which she caught (mostly in the gut), some of which she parried, most of which she returned. Once he was low on chakra he had even been desperate enough to yank back her hair, but this only brought him close enough for her to perform the jyuuken, and once she had, Kakashi had had to run in to keep the Uchiha from doing something rash that would permanently affect both of their bodies.

He was angry, she remembered. So pissed that he wouldn't let Kakashi help him back, so ticked that he completely disregarded Sakura's green, glowing, healing hands. Back then, he had thrown Hinata a glare that convinced her that he would search her out and kill her. Terrified, she had slept in Neji nii-san's room for a week.

Hinata grinned at the memory. "I _do _remember."

The Uchiha scowled again. "You beat me."

"I did."

He laughed then. "I was so pissed."

She couldn't help but smile. "I thought you were going to kill me back then."

He was silent for a moment, looking down at the stones on the path. "I thought I was going to kill you, too."

Hinata smiled. It seemed as though she couldn't look away from their hands. The feeling wasn't quite blissful—after all, she wasn't in love with him—but she had never held hands with a boy before, and definitely not a boy like Sasuke. Somehow, it was pleasant.

"You don't want to kill me anymore," she observed.

"I'd die first."

"When did you change your mind?"

He laughed. It was amazing what the expression did to his features. She had always thought him so cold, so heartless. When Sakura had warned her, she had been completely prepared to heed her. But when he smiled that way…

"Don't quite remember." He looked down at her, his eyes gliding from her eyes down to her toes, and his smile became a smirk. "Ha. I was right. You _do _have curves."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, I do. But that's besides the point. I have questions, and you haven't really answered them."

He sighed again. "I just started watching you…train. And you were strong, and I liked that. But you didn't gloat about it. Looking at you at school…you were always so kind to everyone, but not because you were afraid. You weren't like those other girls, always saying stuff about each other and picking pointless fights." He ended his spiel and stopped walking again, and then turned to her. "You like Naruto, right?"

Hinata had to look up at him for a moment before she registered his question. Then, she remembered Sabaku-san's cool, green eyes, his gentle, moist tongue on her fingers, his fierce grip, and she blushed.

"No," she answered, and for the most part, she wasn't lying.

Sasuke looked relieved. "Ah. Well. That works out."

She scowled. "Just because I don't like him doesn't mean I will like you."

He shrugged. "It sure makes my chances a little better."

"And if I liked someone else?"

She didn't know exactly why her words should be so derisive, but the moment she said them, Sasuke's smile dropped and his body tensed as though she had just spoken the gravest insult. His hand tightened over her own.

"Then, Hinata-chan," he said seriously, "I'd be forced to change your mind."

His hand dropped hers, and she thought that would be it. She thought she had forced him to give up, even for a short while.

But then, his hand snaked up to her chin, and then further up to her cheek. She froze, her internal machinery dying as he drew closer, closer, closer. His breath was hot on her cheeks, and when she finally looked up at him, his eyes were half-closed, the black irises taking up almost the entire eye. Sakura had not lied—Sasuke truly was a sight to behold…

But just before his lips had brushed hers, Hinata jumped back to her senses. Pushing her arms forward, she put some distance between them, keeping her eyes on the ground.

"U-Uchiha-san!" she stammered, "I'm sorry! I like someone else!"

When Hinata had gathered the courage to look up again, she realized with another flush that he was staring at her intently, a light flush visible over his cheeks. He dragged his tongue over his lips, slowly, sexily, and had she been any other girl she might have swooned.

"You'll forget him soon enough," Sasuke said, too confidently. "Who is it, then, Hyuuga-san? Let me know what my competition is like."

Hinata looked down again, fisting her hands in her skirts. She remembered the exact, porcelain-smooth texture of Gaara's stomach, the toned muscle directly under the skin, the torturously slow and smoldering smile, the rash, bold, unpredictability. The strength that he wore on his shoulders, the way he bore the burden of knowing that everyone around him did not trust him. He was everything she adored in Naruto and more, so, so, much more.

_He's not here anyway._

"The one I like is…" Hinata paused, and then frowned at her own indecision. Hadn't she just agreed with herself to admit it? "The one I like is Sabaku Gaara!"

Behind her, a minute trail of floating sand dropped to the ground, and many miles away, the man controlling it let his arms drop to his sides and let his face slacken, and then stretch into a ghastly, beautiful smile.


	5. Can't Seem to Get Away

Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Naruto, Sasuke wouldn't be so darn unreasonable, and Gaara would spend a majority of the series shirtless… :B

A/N: Thanks so much for all of the wonderful reviews! They really make my day (especially the long ones..) I wish I could spend time answering every one of them, but I'm kind of in a rush to post this chapter(and, erm, I have a rant to go on right after this paragraph). I'm sorry to make you wait—you see, fanfic is now blocked on BOTH of my computers (first on my laptop, later on the desktop), which makes it impossible to update at home! (The ONE time I wish wasn't summer vac, eh?) So I have to bike to the library… three miles, in 100 degree temperatures. I'm so gross right now that the librarians are probably wondering who let me in… :D

Btdubs, Michael Jackson is dead. I really don't care what horrible stuff people say about him. I loved MJ, and anyone who can't appreciate the wonderful things he did for the world is not being reasonable at all. He gave us great music, sang songs specifically to raise awareness, and donated so much of his time and money to people who needed it. I, personally, don't think he is a pedo at all. I think he was constantly living in an almost separate world. He was once a child, but never really got the chance to act like one, and probably didn't get the chance to snuggle up with his parents. I think he probably wanted to give other kids that opportunity to do so, but he ignored or was unaware of that secret little rule in our world that keeps us from crossing personal bubbles. Just think about it. If your child _actually _got molested by someone, would you allow them to pay their way out of trouble? I mean, if you actually cared and loved and cherished your child, you would do your best to make sure justice was served and the pedo was locked away. No matter how much money someone shoved at you, you wouldn't shut up—instead, you would scream to the world about the _nerve _of the person to try to bribe you to keep silent. I think that the parents of those boys who Michael "allegedly" abused are two-faced parasites trying to find a way to bring a good man to his knees.

If you can't tell, I really love Michael Jackson. So I'm going to be doing a SasuHina fanfic that is centered on music (All kinds of stuff. I'm in love with Flyleaf and Coheed & Cambria right now, so prolly those two will be mentioned a lot). I'm going to try to avoid the whole cliché band-fic deal—they aren't likely to actually be signed on until the very, very end, and most of the singing stuff is done in secret or in someone's garage, but I want to use lyrics and songs that I know and love in it.

What do you think?

I know what you think. You think I should just shut the hell up and get the story started. And you know what? I think I will. :D

****

Hinata let her arms drop. A ferocious burning had crawled up to her face, and now it seemed as though all the bashfulness she had worked so hard to overcome had flooded back to her again. She looked away, at the ground, to the sky, to the buildings to the left and right of them, anywhere but at _him. _

Sasuke chuckled. _He chuckled. _Why was he being so smiley around her? She hadn't done anything to warrant his sudden change of character. She could handle 'cool'—she wasn't so sure about 'hot.'

"That's good," he said. She finally whipped around.

"What?"

He cocked his head to one side. His dark hair fell pleasantly over his eyes. "The fact that you like someone as scary as Sabaku," he mused, "gives me a lot of hope."

The blush drained from her face, instead she blanched. "You won't change my mind, Uchiha-san."

He raised an eyebrow impishly, "Wanna bet on that?"

Half of her wondered what was wrong with her—to turn down someone like Sasuke. So far, to her, at least, he had been gentle and kind and…overly affectionate, sure. He had watched her the same way she had watched Naruto—for too long in hiding, but unlike her feelings for Naruto, his for her had never faded. And besides, he was just so gorgeous.

"You picked such horrible timing," she muttered.

He turned away; he knew. "I didn't think you were that approachable, until…"

"Until Sabaku-san."

"Yea, until him."

They were silent for a moment. Behind them, the sun nestled against the horizon, turning the sky a warm, dazzling orange. Pinks and violets streaked the sky and laced the clouds. In any other situation, it would have been very romantic, but instead, it was slightly awkward.

Hinata's eyes flashed to her watch. "Sasuke-kun," she said gently, "I have to go."

She watched with just a little bit of satisfaction as a light blush blossomed on Sasuke's face. Sasuke-kun. She'd never imagine she'd ever call him that, but here she was, doing just that, and he liked it. Those simple words were her gift to him, since she could give him absolutely nothing else.

**

The walk back had been uneventful. She had left her summer dress in the Yamanaka's shop, and Ino had stowed it away carefully, asking her questions that seemed to get more and more inappropriate by the second. Hinata surprised herself by not being annoyed and more amused by the Yamanaka's interrogation, and even let slip that maybe, just maybe, she had turned the Great Womanizer down.

She didn't want to admit it, but meeting him had somehow made her more…lighthearted.

His words had touched her. She should have dodged them like a good Hyuuga, but the new Hinata was imperfect and she let them gouge deep into her, straight for her heart. In all her years studying to be a shinobi, the most she had gotten akin to love from other people was the brotherly sort Kiba and Shino offered her, or maybe the over-protective watchfulness Neji graced her with. She had always assumed that she would either devise some grand scheme to win Naruto's heart or be married off by her father, but that otherwise, no one out there would want her.

But someone did. And it was someone like Sasuke.

She smiled all the way back home, almost emanating sunshine, an element infrequently seen in the morose Hyuuga household.

**

Hinata arrived in class just a little earlier the next day. For some reason, she had been a hurry to go. Today felt eventful. She could feel it in her bones that something was going to happen. The world seemed full of possibilities—all of her stars were aligned. She had even brought lunch with her today, so there would be no stopping at lockers.

It took a while for her to admit to herself that she was really only trying to avoid Uchiha-san. Students from other classes were seldom allowed to visit the other classrooms, and Sasuke was no exception. In her mind, she had figured that if she could get to class earlier and not leave until the bell rang, she could evade him for a while and settle her thoughts. He had confused them far too much, and she had hardly been able to concentrate on her training. Neji-ni-san normally would have been very disappointed with her, but her expression had been too easy to read. He had known immediately that something was on her mind and told her rather brashly to get rid of it.

And getting rid of it she was.

She smiled as she walked in, 30 minutes early. No one was there yet, not even Kurenai-sensei (who was almost as notorious for her tardiness as Kakashi-sensei), so she settled down in the quiet room and slowly began unpacking her bag. Books in one corner, pencils in the other. Knives and shuriken at the hip. Practice stun gun strapped on the chair. Check, check, check.

The door opened and she looked up, startled, when a certain redhead walked in slowly. Gaara turned around, his gaze focusing on her. His eyes narrowed. She blushed. Although she hadn't necessarily confessed to him, she had definitely said that she liked him aloud. Seeing him again, and knowing she had spoken such embarrassing words, brought a strange feeling of shyness to her and she had to use every ounce of effort to look up and smile at him.

"Sabaku-san, good mor—"

He was at her side in a second, fast, _too fast. _She had only ever seen him walk at a slow pace, and had always assumed that his gourd was weighing him down when really, he was holding himself back. He dropped the gourd on the floor unceremoniously, looking at her with an intensity that was even stronger than it had ever been before, something she was not used to at all.

Quite suddenly, his hands were at her waist, pulling her to him tightly. In that exact moment, a river of sand erupted from his gourd and surrounded them, hardening into an eerie sphere. Only a trickle of light snuck through. Otherwise she was alone with him, in this dark, deadly sand tomb. Touching him, feeling so much of him. It was overwhelming. Without thinking, she brought her hands to his back, trying to push herself closer than she already was. Her hands traced his spine through his shirt.

And then she came to her senses and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her go.

"Hinata," he whispered into the shell of her ear, and the mention of her name jarred her, "Understand this. You are _mine._"

His tongue dragged slowly over the curve of her ear, making her shudder, and then he loosened his grip enough for her to pull away.

"Wh-what do you mean?" she managed. She wished the sand walls were less round so she could lean on them for support. Her knees felt weak.

"Exactly what I said." He tilted her chin up to him, bringing her close to him again. When he breathed, it tasted like sand and sun, like the desert. "No man is to look at you but me. No man is to touch you but me."

And then, without any warning, his lips were crushing hers, and he was pulling her closer, closer, as though trying to force her into him. His lips parted and forced hers to as well, and now, suddenly, her hands were entangled in his hair, trying to keep him there, because although she knew she'd be bruising later, it felt _so _good, sinfully good, like all of her fantasies had come to life within a few short seconds…

People were coming in, she could hear their exclamations of surprise and confusion, could feel when a few brave ones came up and tapped the sand walls from the outside, but she didn't care. Somehow, she had ended up on the flat floor, and he was still kissing her, but leaning into her now, and she broke apart only to breathe, to taste air, only to find that it was nowhere as satisfying as his mouth.

He darted to her neck, kissing, biting, licking, and suddenly she started making _sounds, _not of pain, but of a strange pleasure she had never known before, light mewls and small moans, and it wasn't until she realized what she was doing did she push him away.

He let her this time, staring down at her with those intense eyes, his lips bright pink from overuse. He grinned.

"You don't want more?" he asked suggestively, and she had to use all of her self-control to keep from shaking her head.

"Gaara," she whispered. "No. Not here. Please."

She had imagined herself saying more, but that seemed to work just fine. He crawled off of her and stood. "I presume you understand now? No man. The Uchiha included."

Suddenly, Hinata understood. He knew. He knew about Sasuke. What she didn't understand was how. When she had met Sakura, there was no one else around, save Kiba and Shino. She was Hyuuga; she would have known, would have sensed his presence. Gaara wasn't exactly unnoticeable—his bright, crimson hair would stand out from miles away to Hyuuga eyes.

"You…spied on me," she said flatly.

His brows furrowed, and his lips pursed together in what could be interpreted as a pout. "You held his hand."

His jealousy should have mellowed her, but her mind was jumbled and instead she felt violated. "That was none of your business."

His eyes hardened. "It was _all _of my business. I thought you understood. You. Are. Mine."

She shuddered at his words. "I am my own. And when did I become yours? Why did you…" she paused, and activated her Byakugan. Sure enough, there were students pressing their ears intently against the sand walls from the outside, and Kiba, looking almost as furious as she did, had sent Akamaru front and center. Hinata frowned, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "…why did you kiss me?"

Gaara grinned, and it was chilling. For once, she was truly frightened of him, not because of what he could do to her, but because of what he _wanted _to do to her.

"We should get to class before people start wondering," he said, and, at that, sent his sand cascading to the floor. The unfortunate students directly around it were pelted with sand, and, strangely enough, even Kurenai-sensei had a dusty look to her. Hinata turned puce with embarrassment. This was too much for her to take in one day. Too much.

And then, all too suddenly, another thought came to her. Her eyes widened, and before she could stop herself she had grabbed Gaara by the shoulder, whipped him around to face her, brought her hand back, and slapped him.

The room fell silent.

Hyuuga Hinata had slapped Sabaku Gaara. _Someone _had slapped Sabaku Gaara, and had not died a painful, crushing death immediately afterward. Gaara stared up at Hinata in shock. The sting on his cheek wasn't that painful—she hadn't used the jyuuken on him, after all—but he had never been struck and the feeling was new and fresh. He looked up at her, aghast, at her wide, determined lilac-tinged eyes, at her pouting lips, her heaving chest.

He decided three things at that moment.

Hinata Hyuuga was beautiful content. She was pretty when annoyed.

But she was glorious in her anger.

"My first kiss," she said, not caring that everyone was watching, "That was for stealing it."

He almost laughed, but that would have been too unlike him. "You liked it," he said.

She didn't deny it or admit to it, either. "You _stole _it."

"It was to be mine anyway."

"I might have given it to someone else."

He raised an eyebrow. "Uchiha-san?"

Collectively, the classroom gasped. Sasuke's name was repeated in shocked whispers, from the girls to the boys. Many looked unsurprised, however, and leaned in to listen more closely to them argue. Hinata wished they would just leave.

"Yes," she said, through set teeth, "Perhaps."

Gaara shrugged, ignoring the tiny burs of pain that somehow managed to lodge themselves into his chest. Part of him was furious—had she not told the Uchiha merely hours before that she would not accept him because she liked—how had she put it—oh yes, "Sabaku-san"? Why this sudden change of heart?

"_You _understand, Gaara," she hissed, "I don't care how powerful you are. I don't care how smart you are." She paused. _I don't care how gorgeous you are. _"I am not your plaything."

Hinata swung around, flushed and in a temper. "What are all you of you guys doing?" she yelled, "Aren't we supposed to be having class?"

Hinata Hyuuga did not yell, so this should have been a spectacle. But rather than gape at her, all of her classmates shuffled back to their seats immediately. Hinata Hyuuga was a quiet little girl, but they had seen her spar and knew to stay away when she was in a passion. Out of the corner of her eye, Hinata spotted Ino giving her a long, regarding look, a strange smile crossing her features. She looked at her, frowning slightly, and then allowed herself to smile.

*

Life could not get anymore confusing than this.

She had started the day out trying to avoid Uchiha-san. She'd planned everything right, and while she hadn't caught even the slightest glimpse of the dark-haired heartthrob all day, she had, unfortunately, thrown herself into a different trap altogether.

Sabaku-san wasn't even _trying _not to stare at her anymore.

After a few hours, her classmates had stopped throwing her inquisitive glances (all but Ino, who really looked like she had something to say). But the most intense stare of all still bore down on her, and it was so overwhelming that Hinata couldn't help but glance nervously back at him every few minutes.

It irked her so much. Enough so that she couldn't stand it anymore, and when the bell rang to release them for lunch, she grabbed her food and marched out of the door, deliberately ignoring the slightly confused look on Gaara's face (even though the way he watched her leave with his lunch was a little cute.) For a moment, she considered going to the cafeteria, but quickly decided against it—not only would her classmates probably attack her with questions she wasn't willing to answer, but also Uchiha-san would likely be there, waiting to try to woo her again. And this time, if he gave her those same elusive smiles, she might not be able to resist.

_Like I did with Sabaku-san._

Her brow furrowed at the thought, and she was filled with loathing for both him and herself. Somehow, he had managed to spy on her. That meant that he had definitely heard her confession—he wouldn't have acted so brashly otherwise. Had he thought that because she had said she liked him, he'd be able to do whatever he wanted with her? Did he think she was that easy?

Of course, she couldn't shake off the fact that she had enjoyed every second of his assault. There was something hauntingly thrilling about that dark, enclosed, sandy space, about being alone but not alone, about the sudden and unprecedented attack. She remembered the exact texture of his lips, soft, and the way he had shivered when she'd touched his spine.

Scowling, Hinata threw open the doors to exit the school and dashed down the steps. No one would think she was skipping—they trusted her far too much and she wouldn't dream of it. There was a tall, sprawling tree in front of the school that she'd always wanted to sleep under, but had never found the time. Dragging out her bento, she unstacked it and leaned backwards into the tree, sighing.

"I'm going to kill him," she murmured under her breath as she pulled out a riceball. Thank goodness she hadn't spent hours making them into his face today—that would have certainly been a little awkward.

"You're going to kill who?"

Hinata nearly dropped all of her food into her lap. Looking up, she met dark, onyx eyes and let herself drop right back against the tree with an audible groan.

Sasuke's grin flickered. Sighing, he found his footing on the limb he had been sitting on and flipped out, landing impressively on one knee.

"Nice," she said absentmindedly. He stood up, stretched, and sat next to her.

"I'm guessing you aren't happy to see me." He spoke in an almost bored monotone, but there was something slightly hurt in his voice. Hinata scowled, feeling merciless today.

"Can you please revert back to your old self and hide your feelings for once?" she said, frustrated. "The jerky you is so much easier to deal with."

He looked taken aback. "Wow," he said, "I'm the jerk?"

Hinata felt guilty almost immediately. She hung her head as a rush of blood flooded into her cheeks. "Sorry," she said after a moment of silence. "A lot's happened today, so I'm a bit…"

"…on edge," he finished it for her. His countenance darkened, and for a second he looked like he wanted to kill something. "I heard about what happened with Sabaku today."

Hinata turned puce and looked away, abruptly stuffing a riceball into her mouth. Sasuke watched her carefully for a moment, and then added, "First kiss?"

She nodded dumbly, and he shrugged. "Figures."

Hinata swallowed and narrowed her eyes. "Figures?"

He smiled then, and Hinata knew that if any of his fangirls were in the vicinity at the moment, they would definitely have jumped him. "You were saving it for Naruto forever, right?"

"…Yea."

"You are just…so _funny_."

Hinata pouted and looked away, "I don't like him anymore, so that doesn't even matter anymore."

"What did you see in the dobe anyway?" He was grinning really widely now.

Hinata clamped her mouth shut and turned away. Sasuke sighed.

"I mean…how did you even see him when I was by his side the entire time?"

In any other situation, the comment would have sounded narcissistic and arrogant. It would have made her furious. But Sasuke wasn't smiling, and they both knew that his intention wasn't to tease.

"Sasuke, I…" she whispered, and then suddenly he pulled her to him, crushing her against him. She started, surprised. Her hands slowly slid up his chest, preparing herself to push him away, but with every inch the movement seemed less defensive and more…enticing.

"Don't worry," Sasuke whispered, "I'm not going to do anything."

She stiffened, but then relaxed. "Sasuke…I didn't even know you were…into girls."

He scowled, and as though to prove it, pulled Hinata closer. "I'm not into stupid girls."

She blushed, flattered in spite of herself. "You know that I'm confused right now."

He shrugged. "I know."

"Are you so confident that I'll choose you?"

He paused for a moment, and then pulled her back. "Positive."

Still grinning, he pressed his lips against her forehead. Before she could react, he jumped back away from her, leapt back into the tree, and raced out into the town. Cutting class. She frowned. Maybe it was best _not _to come to school for a while...sooner or later one of those two boys was going to do something to her that would seriously make her faint.

Flushed red, she popped a bite-size onigiri into her mouth and thumped her head against the tree.

This was going to be a _long _week.


	6. Advice ?

Chapter Six

**A/N: (Hold on tight guys, this is a long 'un!) **

I love my reviewers so much! I think the #1 Review for making me smile goes to Sarcastic Proserpine, though… *fangirl squeals with you*

Thing is, I love SasuHina too, and I hate it when one guy is made into a villain just so the other can get an easy upper hand. Love is about following your heart, you know? So both candidates have to be laden with both faults and perks, right? :D

I love how so many people sound conflicted now, though. It's like… Sasuke? Gaara? Both??? GAH! That's the sad thing about creating a sweet Sasuke and knowing he's not going to win—I mean, I love him too. Which is why I'm giving him the spotlight in another story. I've posted the 1st chappie of that one. It's not as good as this one, mostly cuz I had the first chappie of this one figured out down pat and that one was like…OMG TYPE-PUKE!! **BLERGH**

This story won't be that much longer. I think I'll max out before 10 chapters or so…I'm not into the whole writing novels deal for fanfics, mostly because you put so much work into it and don't get much out of it (Except for Reviews, which, don't get me wrong, are super-amazing. They just don't = cash. :D)

Btdubs. My book, titled _Devoted, _is on and and . But I have a proposal. (Am I marketing on my FF account? Yes. Am I shameless? Completely. Do I care? Not at all.)

If you buy the book from either site (I think it's about $14.40 for the book itself, and $6 for the eBook), read it, and write me a review on amazon or bn, I'll do one of two things.

I'll either write you a fic, on whatever topic you want. Basically, the only thing I won't do is shonen-ai, mainly because I fail at it and I wouldn't be so into it either. Sorry, NaruSasu SasuNaru fans! :3

I'll draw you a pic. And color it. With markers/ PhotoShop CS4… however you want it done. Whatever you want. Cept for pornz. If you want to see my art, check out my dA. I'm kurokitsunesama. A lot of the stuff there is about a year old, so I'll update it later.

Heck, if you're the first one to do this for me, I'll do both! C'mon guys… $14.40? Anyone's got $14.40 to give to an aspiring author? Pwease? If _Devoted _ever takes off, I will not forget you! :D

Which reminds me. Do you want me to post a chapter of Devoted with the next update? I'll post two chapters at once in that case.

Also, to hainexnoire, I just wanted to say that I appreciate the fact that you apologized and I respect you for it. :D I still don't agree with you, however, and I do not think I was being offensive in any way. I was only speaking of parents who _do _love their children, and specifically stated so in my A/N. I'm not by any means undermining your friends' experiences. I just think that before you affront me about not doing research, etc., you should read my note more thoroughly. Besides, hon, this is America. Innocent until proven guilty. And I see no evidence that shows that MJ was guilty.

3

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Naruto… let's just say there would be plenty of half-psycho, half-smexy moments with Gaara wearing torn-up clothes and dripping sand. *I find strange things attractive*

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Gaara had not been looking forward to this, but it seemed that the time had finally come. Although the youngest child, he had always carried himself like a prince, like a pampered brat. His siblings were not his equals—they were his cronies. They were meant to look up to him, not vice versa. However, this moment seemed inevitable. When it came to matters like this one, he was ignorant and naïve, and they, unfortunately for him, were not.

"Temari," he said suddenly one day, while they were drinking tea at the kitchen's island. His sister looked up at him and placed her cup firmly down. She knew her brother almost better than she did herself, but the tone behind his usual monotone was new. Kankuro looked up too, a strange expression on his face.

"Gaara," she said with a flourish of her hand, signaling for him to continue.

"Do women not like to be kissed?"

Temari looked at him wildly for a moment, and abruptly began choking on her tea. Gaara sighed and sent a flurry of sand to her, patting her on the back while she sputtered and gagged. When she looked up again, her face was blanched and she looked as though she'd seen a ghost. Kankuro, on the other hand, sat, virtually motionless, gauging their reactions.

"D-depends," she choked out raspily, "…on the person, the place?"

Gaara nodded, resting his chin in his hands pensively. His eyes flickered up to her again, and Temari saw the innocence that she had thought he had lost lurking deep within them.

Finally, the older brother spoke. "Is this about the Hyuuga girl?"

Temari turned sharply to Kankuro. "You know who it is?" Her gaze turned murderous. "And you didn't tell me?" She lifted up her empty cup as though tempted to lob it at his head, but thought better of it and slammed it back onto the table. Kankuro chuckled, looking quite pleased with himself, and waved her off.

"Talk of the school. Little bro, didn't know you had it in you, eh?" Kankuro winked mischievously. Gaara's eyes narrowed and he folded his arms across his chest. To anyone else, it would have been a warning sign, but his siblings saw it for what it was—obstinacy. Despite his cool appearance, he really was a little childish.

Temari folded her arms. "Don't know her—but I've seen her before. Dark hair? Those creepy Hyuuga eyes…kinda cute-ish?" She closed her eyes as though picturing her. "She's got some wicked speed technique; if I was just a little bit more desperate I'd ask her how she does it." She pursed her lips together. "She seems like a shy one."

Gaara remembered the way she looked at him—her eyes completely void of fear. The shared lunches. Her slap.

Hyuuga Hinata was definitely not shy. Quiet, yes, unassuming, yes. But not timid.

He chuckled, and both of his siblings looked up in shock; he seldom laughed and when he did it was usually not out of amusement, but anticipation for a kill.

"Dude," Kankuro hissed, "This Hyuuga chick must be something else. She's got…_Gaara _whipped." He shuddered as though that twere the most improbable, impossible thing in the world.

Gaara's smile dropped from his face like a rock. "I don't understand what you're implying," he hissed. For once, though, Kankuro didn't look like he was going to back down.

"Look, little bro," he said, pointing at him to make sure he didn't break eye contact, "You're coming to us. To ask us questions. About _girls._"

Gaara's eyes narrowed, and his gourd shuddered almost imperceptibly. It was a deliberate threat, and both of his siblings could feel it, but neither seemed to take him seriously.

"…and about a Hyuuga girl, too. _The _Hyuuga girl. She's Main Branch, bro. You'll have to get past Pops to do _anything _with her."

Gaara stood up, glaring down at them imposingly. His eyes narrowed to dark slits and he tousled his hair again, making it look even wilder. "I think I can handle her father," he said all too confidently. "It's the girlwho's the problem."

He was opening up. Becoming soft. Dammit. Maybe Kankuro was right. Maybe he was whipped.

Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself sitting back down, brushing his blunt nails against the table, and telling them _everything. _About how she made lunch for him. About how he had spied on her. About the kiss. The slap. Everything, laid bare, said without a stammer or a stutter or a moment's hesitation. As a rule, Gaara dealt in blood and pain, but he could also deal in words and by the end of his unusually long report, both of his siblings had leaned forward halfway onto the table and were staring at him with undisguised shock.

Temari finally breathed. "The Uchiha, huh?" She traced the rim of her cup. "Tough competition. That one's a hottie."

Kankuro shrugged. "Nah, man. You've already got her. If she was making you little mini-Gaaras out of riceballs…" he drifted off, a stupid, dazed expression suddenly coming onto his face, "…I'd kill to get a girl to make me little Me-onigiri…"

"From what I see here, she probably isn't the see-you-and-swoon type. Otherwise that Uchiha bastard would've swept her up a _long _time ago." Temari observed. Gaara nodded—she was very right.

"But she kissed you back at first, right? She feels _something…_" Kankuro added, stroking his chin.

Temari rapped the table sharply with her fingernails, painted an obnoxious purple today, and then suddenly shot up.

"Maybe… you should try a less…upfront approach? She sounds like the kind of girl who needs you to be extra-gentle with her. Like, be a gentleman. The whole seduction thing-" (here, Gaara narrowed his eyes in protest, "—yes, Gaara, what you're doing right now is seduction… that might not work so well."

"I'm not trying to tease her into my bed," Gaara said quietly. "I want her to look at me. And _only _me."

"So what were you doing with her on the floor then?" Temari's tone was sharp, and surprisingly, admonishing. A strange heat seemed to rush to Gaara's face, and he gritted his teeth.

"That was—" he closed his eyes, and his hairless brow creased in concentration, "Instinct."

Temari leaned back in her chair, and then rocked forward. The irritation really seemed to be sitting on her brow now, and she no longer even tried to hide it. Something about the relationship was irking her, he knew.

"Get rid of that, then. Instinct, to us girls, can make you look stupid."

At that, she downed the rest of her tea with a loud gulp, tossed the plastic cup into the sink, and stalked out of the room, her hands in her pockets.

**

"Teme! Get your butt over here!"

Sasuke rolled his eyes as Naruto's voice carried across the training field. He had come there to train alone, to beat his fists bloody on the battered post in front of him, not to entertain that loser. Sometimes, he really wondered _why _he was friends with Naruto—frankly, he hated almost everything about his personality. He supposed it was too much Uzmaki-exposure… he had gotten so used to him that secretly, sometimes, he didn't mind his company.

He pounded the post one last time and stretched. "You get over _here_, dobe!"

They yelled their insults like cute pet-names.

Naruto, for some reason, obeyed, rushing down the green to meet him. Sasuke glowered at him—Naruto'd taken to using every opportunity to show off his newfound speed and it was really getting annoying. Finally, he skidded to a stop, shaking up the pollen in the grass and flowers around them. Looking Sasuke carefully in the eye, he whipped him around by his shoulder.

"Hey, teme," he said, suddenly serious. It was a strange habit of his—switching from goofy to mature in a matter of milliseconds. "What's this I hear about you and Hinata-chan?"

Sasuke answered with another punch to the post. Naruto's ears turned red with annoyance, and he puffed out his cheeks.

"Listen, Sasuke, Hinata-chan isn't like all of the other girls. You can't just…" he paused for a moment, rubbing his nose, "…you can't just use her like a tissue. Hinata-chan is the kind of girl that needs to be treasured and…"

"Shut up."

Naruto paused mid-sentence, turning to his teammate, who suddenly looked lethal. He had long ago discarded his shirt, and in his anger the sweat glistening on his chest was more intimidating than sensual—indicating just how physically prepared he was to kick Naruto's ass. His eyes were spinning red, the Sharingan activated.

"Dude," Naruto said, narrowing his eyes. Naruto was an idiot, but not stupid enough to see danger when it stared him in the eye. "What's your problem?"

"You," he spat, tossing another punch at the post. It dented considerably, leaving an imprint of his fist.

"Don't give me that," Naruto countered, crossing his arms. "I didn't like what you did to Sakura. I don't want you doing it again."

Sasuke straightened out, pushing his damp hair back, away from his eyes. "I already told you. Sakura knew what she had coming."

"…she tried, so hard, teme! Did everything to make you like her!" Naruto was not even trying to hide his accusatory tone any longer.

Sasuke spared Naruto another glance, and then rolled his eyes and gave the post a kick. "And I didn't. What, you wanted me to lie to her?"

"Maybe break it off a little more nicely, you know? Ease her away?"

Sasuke chuckled at the prospect of "easing" Sakura away. Being nice to her would only make her cling longer and grip tighter. The dobe didn't know that. He was too head over heels for her to even try to acknowledge her faults.

Naruto fumed. "Well, I'm just saying, Hinata-chan is even more fragile than--…"

Sasuke froze mid-kick, and then lowered his leg to the ground. "She's not."

Naruto raised a brow. "Hunh?"

Finally, Sasuke turned around, giving Naruto the attention he'd been craving for the past five minutes. "She's not fragile. And I _like _her. I'm not messing with her."

Naruto looked dumb-founded for a moment. Not only had Sasuke just spoken the most consecutive sentences to him, but he had said that he actually _liked _someone. It didn't calculate. When Sasuke 'tolerated' someone, it meant he liked them. So if he, himself, admitted to _liking_…

"Aw. Heck no. Don't believe it."

Before Naruto could blink, he found himself on the ground, Sasuke's foot pressed heavily into his chest.

"What are you trying to say?" The animosity ran thick as honey through Sasuke's voice.

"Sasuke Uchiha doesn't _like _people. It doesn't happen." Naruto managed, prying Sasuke's foot off of him. "It's like me hating ramen. Or Sakura. It doesn't work."

Defeated, Sasuke leaned against the post and ran his hands down the bumps and ridges of damage.

"She likes the Sabaku," he breathed, and the moment Naruto saw the look of unease on his friend's face, he knew that this wasn't a fling.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Naruto said incredulously, "She likes Gaara? So the whole thing I heard about them making out in the sand was…like…true?"

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, and without warning, we whipped around and kicked the post from the top. With a deafening crack, it split down the middle. Naruto winced, sad to see his favorite training post go.

"_He_ kissed her," Sasuke growled.

Naruto looked at him strangely for a moment, and said, "So you've told her how you feel and everything? And she…wait a minute…" Naruto's face lit up, his blue eyes shining like beacons, "…she _turned you down?!_"

Sasuke glowered over at him. "No. She told me she was confused." His cold façade deteriorated suddenly, and he dropped to his knees, knotting his hands in his hair. "Dammit, what am I doing _wrong_?"

Naruto looked at him strangely for a moment. "Well, you could try being a little less scary, for starters."

His hands shook. He couldn't believe he was actually confiding in an idiot like Naruto, but he was.

"I'm not…scary….with her," he muttered, "It's hard to be. I think I'm…actually nice." He blushed a little. "She called me Sasuke-kun, even."

Naruto's ears went red at the thought of a cute litte Hinata, twiddling her forefingers and muttering "Naruto-kun" while peeking up at him shyly. Even the thought was adorable. For a moment, he was silent, and then a thought came to him.

"You went for nice, right?" Naruto said pensively. "Then do naughty now!"

Sasuke looked at him in horror. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Somehow, the dobe managed to produce one of Jiraiya's novels, and Sasuke didn't have to look twice to see that it was Kakashi's Icha Icha Paradise. Naruto had somehow convinced him to let him borrow it, since he couldn't stand having to ask the "pervy sage."

"This book tells all you've gotta do," Naruto said, sure of himself, "Some girls like it nice, and some like it hot. Maybe Hinata isn't the shy little princess we think she is…and she really wants you to _hit on her._"

Sasuke blanched. He didn't have any experience in this kind of stuff—as a rule, girls came to him. All he had to do was look their way and they'd come rushing, or blink or smile or sweat. They were all over him at all times.

"Hit on her?" he whispered, trying to comprehend the meaning behind those words.

Naruto nodded once. "Yea. Pull out the whole "dreamy" act and be smooth. Open up the doors for her, use every opportunity you see to touch her. The book even says you should lean in when you talk to her and stuff. It's a work of genius!"

Sasuke looked at Naruto suspiciously for a moment, and then to the book in his hands.

"Give me that," he said sharply, snatching the book right out of Naruto's hands and running out of the field before his friend could realize what hit him.

**

Tuesday.

Hinata shuddered. There were four whole days until she could finally relax again, and after Monday's happenings, she was unsure of whether her heart could take much more abuse. She didn't bother doing anything devious this time around, having decided that it was far too tiring to try to avoid _both _Gaara and Sasuke. She walked into the classroom at the same time Ino did, bumping shoulders with her at the door.

"Sorry," she said, smiling meekly.

"Hm," Ino observed, and then she whipped around, eyeing shrewdly. Hinata colored, unsure of whether she found her lacking. "Okay. I see. You are cute."

Hinata jolted, nearly dropping her bags. "Yamanaka-san…!"

Ino sauntered over to her desk, sitting down backwards. "Ah. Look. You've got something new today."

Hinata groaned audibly and dragged her feet to her desk, ready for whatever ridiculous present Gaara or Sasuke had left for her this time. When she saw it, she gasped.

It was a rose, crafted expertly from glass. Every petal was intact and looked extremely delicate, and when she leaned in she could even see spots of dew and lines of texture along them. The stem was long and thorned, but the points were blunt. She ran her finger along one, feeling the bump. She smiled.

"Wow," she whispered, picking it up and holding it before her eyes. "This is…this is…"

"It's from Sabaku-san today," Ino said plainly. "Stopped by the flower shop and asked to see a rose. He didn't even buy it. He just stared at it for like, hours, until Momma kicked him out. I think he made it. Can I touch?"

Hinata slowly handed it to Ino, who ran her finger cautiously down its length. Gently, she gave it back, and then sighed aloud.

"I'm not even gonna lie," she said, blowing her bang out of her eyes, "I'm insanely jealous of you."

Hinata reddened a bit, holding the rose close to her chest. It truly was a treasure—probably the most flattering, or even the best, gift she'd ever received. There was something pure and personal about it, and the handiwork was perfect—any glass-blower in Konoha would be teeming with jealousy. She wondered how exactly she would thank him, and whether he would expect anything in return.

"Yamanaka-san, I really think you'd be better in this kind of situation," she admitted, "I can't make up my mind. My head hurts just thinking about it."

Ino snorted. "Just Ino, hon. No need for formalities. And personally," she turned her head as a few students started to stream in and lowered her voice a bit, "I'd stay away from Sasuke. He's gorgeous and everything, but he's a total prick."

Hinata fumbled with her rose, studying the way the light seemed to split into a rainbow at the very center. "He's so nice to me, though. He treats me…well."

Ino sighed and hopped on top of Hinata's desk, crossing her legs. "But have you seen the way Sabaku-san looks at you?"

Again, Hinata had to look away. Of course she knew. That intense stare had irked (and pleased) her since his arrival. She had caught it directly far too many times, and it was unwavering and teeming with too many emotions for her to name.

Ino finished her thought for her. "He looks at you like you're his _world. _It's a beautiful thing, and whenever I turn around, I wonder—why don't you ever look back? It's the sappiest look I've ever seen on a guy—it's like, doesn't he have any shame? They're worse than bedroom eyes."

Blood rushed rapidly to Hinata's head as she thought carefully about what Ino had said, matching his expression to her description. Maybe she was right. Maybe that intensity came from the fact that he felt rooted to her.

The classroom door swung open again, and Gaara walked in, making a slow beeline for the desk. Ino smirked and cocked her head at him, and he nodded once, and then sat down next to Hinata.

"Good morning," he said.

Hinata froze. Gaara had been at the Academy for a while now, but not once had he ever said anything as trivial as 'good morning.' His words were few and conserved for answering questions in class and tormenting her.

"G-good morning," she stammered, and then sat down, looking away from him. She fingered the rose nervously. "Thank you," she whispered. "It's beautiful."

He didn't respond for a moment, and she looked up nervously. Their eyes met and he smiled—but for once, it wasn't a hungry expression or a wild expression—it was soft and gentle and…inexplicably sweet.

"You're welcome," he said. He offered his hand, gesturing towards the rose, and she gave it to him carefully. "You want to know how it's made?"

She nodded and wondered how he had known. He placed the glass rose on the desk with a _clink _and pooled his sand into a floating clump above the desk. With slow, steady strokes of his hands, he forced the sand to press tightly together, and then drew his hands apart to stretch it. Then, suddenly, he clapped them together, squeezing his hands tightly, and the sand compressed. Within seconds, Hinata saw a glow of red heat.

"Oh!" she said, pleased. Ino turned around to watch.

Gradually, the sand seemed to get hotter, until Gaara was left with a clump of molten sand, hanging like a glob of glow-in-the-dark orange liquid suspended by antigravity. His next movements were almost imperceptible, and Hinata had to activate her Byakugan to follow them well. She could see him shaping it, rushing to get the petals in shape before the glass could harden, which it was doing rather quickly. The stem had not yet been defined, and by this time much of the glass had hardened until it was almost clear. Quickly, Gaara sent some extra sand from the gourd to the stem and began polishing and shaping, rubbing around it. When the sand fell away, what was left was a clear, smooth, thorned stem. The petals were still cooling, slightly opague, but he sent the sand to them quickly enough.

By the end of the minute, two glass roses lay on the desks.

"Do you want to keep this one, too?"

Hinata felt a heat rise to her face. "A-ano," Hinata whispered shyly. "I-I might break them."

He smirked and picked up one rose, and to her utmost horror, dropped it on the floor. Instead of shattering, however, it clinked against the floor and rolled away. He called it back easily.

"It looks like this," he said slowly, "But it is still my sand."

Hinata stared up at him blankly for a moment, flattered and yet also conflicted. Was he doing this to apologize for yesterday?

"Thank you," she said again, gathering both roses to her chest and blushing lightly.

Gaara smiled, satisfied with her reaction. _Reel her in early, _Kankuro had said, _So that when the Uchiha tries, the scoreboard will already be 1-0 in your favor. _He'd always assumed his brother was an idiot, but perhaps he did have some sense, after all.

**

Sasuke read the lines in his (stolen) copy of Icha Icha Paradise over and over again until he was sure he had them memorized. Then, he tossed the book away in disgust. Sure, those lines might work on some skank he'd already reeled in, but never on Hinata. Despite what Naruto had said, he highly doubted that she really was into the 'naughty' type. She'd probably explode if he said anything from that book to her, and then he'd have a big mess to clean up afterwards. He imagined apologizing for humiliating her. _Sorry, Hinata. It's just that this book said it'd work!_

His Sharingan swirled into action unconsciously. It had tuned itself to _her _presence, and now he started scoping out for her. His heart raced, and he closed his eyes tightly and exhaled.

_Relax, Sasuke. _

Leaning against the lockers coolly, he crossed his arms and then tried stuffing them in his pockets, unsure of which pose would look "cooler." When she crossed the corner, his arms were stuck somewhere in between so it looked as though his hands were on his hips instead. He blushed, caught.

She saw him and turned, and then smiled widely. There was something different about her, brighter. She seemed flushed with happiness. "Hello, Uchiha-san," she said, and then swept past him.

_Uchiha-san?_ His heart dropped. Hadn't she just been calling him Sasuke? Why the switch? Had he done something wrong? Did she not think he was…close enough to her? Important enough? He clutched his chest; it felt as though his heart had stopped.

"Hinata!" he called after her. Before he knew what he was doing, he had started running, full speed ahead, and nearly bowled her over when he finally caught up. She gave him a second to collect his thoughts, and then, giving him the widest, sweetest doe-eyes he could ever imagine, said,

"What is it, Sasuke-kun?"

Immediately, he stood straight, enlivened. So she wasn't mad at him after all. She probably just wasn't used to calling him by anything but his surname and had lapsed back into her old habit.

_Lean in when you speak to her._

Sasuke leaned in, bending down until he had met her eyes directly. He smiled, maxing out his charm, and, to his relief, she blushed.

"Hey," he said, "Would you like to go out tonight?"

She looked up at him, her face turning about four shades of red. Yes. It was working. Maybe Naruto was right. Even the great Hinata-chan wouldn't be able to resist. He was winning. Hell yes, he was winning…!

"I-I'm sorry, Sasuke!" she said, bowing deeply from her waist. "I can't!"

The rejection hit him like a crushing blow, literally knocking the wind out of him. He cringed and glanced away, trying hard to keep his voice indifferent. "Oh. I see. Okay."

She looked up again, still red, and spotted the dejection on his face. "I'm sorry! I-I already said yes to Sabaku-san…"

He wished she hadn't said that. It felt like he was getting stabbed in the liver, over and over and over again. "It's fine."

"Maybe sometime later," she said quickly, "I'm sorry…it's just…he asked first, and so…"

He ignored the still-smarting pain and ruffled her hair. It was soft and fine under his palm. "Stop apologizing. It's okay."

When she looked up, her eyes were shining with tears. He suddenly pitied her—she'd never received this much attention before, it was likely it was stifling for her. He suddenly felt an urge to hug her.

Sasuke Uchiha was never one for self-control. If he wanted something, he took it; if he didn't want something, he ditched it. So, in one smooth movement he crushed Hinata against him, pressing his lips carefully on the same spot he had kissed the day before, as though trying hard to leave a mark.

Surprisingly, this time she squirmed against him. "Sasuke-kun!"

He felt a strange sting in his chest, and then suddenly he felt limp. He looked up, dazed, and met Hinata's frightened eyes. Her hands were glowing with chakra. He smirked, and then flexed his arms. She hadn't put too much juice in her attack, at least.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "But if Sabaku-san saw that, he'd kill you!"

Sasuke's face fell. Sabaku-san again. When would she stop talking about that guy, anyway? He'd only showed up a couple of weeks ago, and suddenly Hinata was basing her decisions on his moods. It hardly seemed fair.

"I'd kill him if he tried," Sasuke whispered gruffly, "So don't you worry about me."

He felt her shudder with trepidation beside him, and smirked. He needed to find this Sabaku-san and show him who was the real man amongst them.

The fight, he knew, was just beginning.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

**A/N: Well! That's another chappie! This was running on 9 pages, A/N included, so I was kinda trying to end fast. Hope you liked it!**

**Btdubs, there is totally going to be a Sasuke x Gaara showdown soon. I've finally figured out a way to end this cleanly without resorting to the whole "Randomly-turn-one-guy-into-a-total-prick" stunt. YAY!**


	7. A Choice Made

**A/N: **Are you sick of these yet?

Anywho, I still haven't gotten much feedback about the Devoted thing (Do you want me to post a chapter or not, guys?) and it's making me sad. Thanks to hairexnoire for checking it out though! It means a lot to me. :D

The reviews came in STORMS right after I posted the last one. It was like, everyone read it from 8-12 or something. Then traffic slowed down considerably after that. Anywho, you guys are wonderful! No worries, peeps, slightly psycho + seductive Gaara will be back soon. Sweet Gaara is fun to write about, though.

I watched Harry Potter 6 today and am ecstatic! There were a few things I didn't like about it, but overall I thought it was the best one! *is giddy* Also, I have decided that I might go watch New Moon in theaters, just so I can stare at Taylor Lautner's shmexy chest for a couple hours. They BETTER have at least 20 minutes worth of shmexy chest shots. Otherwise I'll demand reimbursement. Sorry. I'm a hormonally-driven teenage girl. I. Like. Man. Abs. And backs. I reeeeaaaallly like backs. I could stare at a hot guy's back for ages, and then demand that he stay still so I can try and draw it. Backs are just beautiful, ne?

Also, I apologize for some weirdness in the previous chappie. For some reason, I don't think FF accepts .coms or too many asterisks. My asterisks literally disappear, and it looks like bad organization on my part. Unfortunately, I'm a lazy bum, so rather than fix the problem I'm just going to point it out. Also, in this chapter, although I write this in third person, there might be POV shifts. Like, third person from Gaara's POV to Hinata's POV to Sasuke's POV. Hopefully, this isn't even noticeable, but…

**Disclaimer: **How many times do I have to say this, and in how many different ways? If I owned Naruto… well…I dunno. I'd be richer, I guess. :D

Chapter 7

**0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o**

Hinata sat inside the girl's bathroom at the Yamanaka's flower shop, nervously twiddling her thumbs as she waited for Ino to emerge from inside her vast (and well-hidden) closet. After telling the exuberant blonde about her "date", Hinata had found herself the object of the girl's attention. More than anything, she wanted to dress Hinata up. Feeling for all the world like a life-size doll, Hinata hugged her knees together. It felt awkward just sitting there in her underwear, letting Ino dictate what she should wear and what she shouldn't. When Hinata mentioned her old summer dress, Ino had given her a strange look and stuck out her tongue.

"He's already seen you in that!" she complained, pulling out a hot pink minidress that would look amazing on her but would clash horrifyingly with Hinata's blue-violet-black-white-gray palette. Curling her lip, she thrust it back into the wardrobe. "You need something that shows him that you actually do like him. Something… a bit shorter, ne?"

Hinata flushed pink. She'd never exposed skin above her knees. There were public pools in Konoha, but not any that she'd visited since she'd hit puberty, preferring instead to do laps in the Hyuuga manor's massive one. Even sitting here with another girl, she felt embarrassed, trying every now and again to cover herself from Ino's all-seeing eyes.

Ino turned to her and made a face. "Your underwear isn't cute, either," she said, motioning to Hinata's current sport's-bra-and-boy-shorts combo. She dove deeper into the closet. "What are you, like a 34C?"

Bashfully, Hinata nodded. She didn't even want to know how Ino had guessed her size in one. Of course, when the blonde produced a lacy black brassiere (with a matching bikini), she had turned red, and when the girl held it out to her and expected her to change into it right in front of her, she'd almost died of blood loss. Eventually, she ended up in the stall, pulling the too-sexy undies on and walking out feeling more exposed than ever before.

"Hi-na-ta," Ino said approvingly. "_Sexy._" She tossed her something made of red cotton. "Okay, now try this."

Hinata fumbled with the dress and then unfolded it.

It was very pretty and very simple, with thin straps and a straight (rather than plunging, something Hinata was very grateful for) neckline that would likely show her collar and chest but not much cleavage. The dress flared out from the hips and ended just above the knees. The hem was decorated with a woven eyelet design and a single ribbon stretched across the waist.

"It's lovely," Hinata admitted. She put it on gingerly, and then looked at herself in the mirror. "It truly is."

Ino stared at her for a moment. "I knew red would work on you. I was thinking of going for blue, you know, to match your eyes and whatnot, but this pops soo much better. And you've got that gentle angel face, so I couldn't put you in anything skimpy…" She sounded a bit disappointed at the last part. Then, her eyes lit up again. "Wait here," she said, and then she rushed out of the bathroom and into the main store, vanishing amongst the flora.

Hinata checked her watch, wrinkling her toes against the cold tile. "I have only ten minutes until Gaara comes to pick me up, Ino-chan," she called to her new friend. When she heard no response, she tiptoed over to the closet to look for some shoes.

Ino had a vast collection of those as well, but most of them didn't suit her tastes—too flashy, too high, too thin, too strappy. She was a simple girl, the kind who only wore high heels on special occasions and usually wobbled like a duck when she walked in them. She trailed her hands along the shelves until she spotted a pair of simple black flats and slipped into them.

Ino returned with a single blood-red rose, thornless. She smiled down at Hinata, nodded approvingly toward the shoes, and handed her the flower.

"For him," she said with a smile. "It matches your dress. Boys don't like flowers much, but since you have nothing for him…" (Here, Hinata flinched; knowing that the only thing he liked was food and making a bento in the Hyuuga manor _after school _would likely arouse suspicion, she had not gotten him a gift of any sort) "…I'd thought he might appreciate the thought."

Hinata smiled and spun the flower shyly between two fingers. "You're too kind, Ino-chan. T-Thank you."

The Yamanka gave Hinata a long, appraising look, and then pulled her close for her a hug.

"Knock 'im dead, Hinata-chan!"

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

What was this feeling?

Gaara clutched his gourd's strap possessively, his fingers digging through the fabric and into his palms. He remembered the events from that afternoon all too clearly, but the memory still did not seem real.

**

_Hinata twirled the glass rose between her hands, her face flushed with content. It looked like she couldn't stop smiling. He remembered how enthralled he had been with her anger and decided that he wasn't sure which he liked best. He could see why her mother had named her so—she seemed to teem with sunshine that even he, Gaara of the Sand, could feel._

"_Thank you," she whispered again, looking up at him shyly through her eyelashes. It was strange how the gift had mellowed her. He frowned, wondering whether she was so simple as to follow right along with Kankuro's advice. Where all girls so sensitive to gifts?  
_

_Oh well, he had decided. All that mattered was that she had forgiven him. _

_He turned to her. _

"_I would like to…entertain you tonight."_

_She had looked up in shock and nearly dropped her present. Her pale eyes seemed as wide as saucers. _

"_G-Gaara!" she whispered, dropping the honorifics entirely. "Are you asking me out?"_

_He smiled. The phrase sounded strange in relation to him, but he could accept that. "Yes," he had said. "I am."_

_For the next ten minutes, she did not speak a word and pretended to be enraptured by Kurenai-sensei's lecture. He noticed, however, that instead of taking notes, she clutched her pencil tightly, and that, occasionally, her gaze would wander to her lap or her clenched fist._

_Then she looked at him from the corner of her eye, flushed red, and whispered, "Okay."  
_

_He thought he could have ruled the world at that moment._

_**_

His sand trickled lazily from the gourd at the memory, and he willed it to stay still. It was strange how well-intertwined his feelings were with Shuukaku's—and he wondered at times whether this was a good thing. Perhaps, with her around, Shuukaku would be as punch-drunk as he was and not try to convince him to feed. It was evident, really, that since his arrival in Konoha, Shuukaku had quieted considerably, sometimes not bothering him for days at a time.

Was it her presence? Was such a horrible creature as enraptured with her as he?

He stepped into the Yamanaka's store, where they had agreed to meet. The blond girl was at the counter, and when he entered she smiled brightly and waved. He liked her. She was loud and nosy, but at least she seemed to be good to Hinata and gave her more attention than the cursory glances the others seemed to offer (or, in sharp contrast, that too-close brotherly-ness the dog boy showed).

"Hinata's in the back," Ino said. Gaara nodded once.

"Get her for me," he said. He didn't intend for the command to sound rude, but _please _was not part of his vocabulary and he wasn't about to grovel to her. Naturally, she obeyed, but he couldn't tell whether it was from intimidation or excitement on her part. He faintly heard her saying something, and could only barely make out Hinata's mumbled response. The flowers were thick around him and he could only just see past the plethora of colors.

"Gaara."

And then he saw her.

This dress was even more tantalizing than the one she had worn for the Uchiha. It was deep red, the color of his hair, the color of the rose she held shyly in her hands, and only shades deeper than the flush on her face. Her legs were bare and untouched by the sun, and he saw more of her neck than ever before. It made him want to run his lips down its length, but now was neither the time nor the place…

She placed the rose in his hands. "It isn't much, but…"

His smile was barely noticeable, but there, and in return she smiled as well. Carefully, he plucked the head off of the rose, much to her horror, and when she opened her mouth to complain, gently shushed her.

"Stay still," he said. He pushed her hair gently behind her ear, placing the rose there. It was a small addition, but strangely befitting. She beamed up at him and touched his hand.

At first, he was unsure of what to do with it, but slowly, surely, he wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed it tightly. They both shuddered; the contact felt complete. He never wanted to let go.

"Shall we leave?"

Hinata waved fervently to Ino, who gave her a thumbs-up, and then nodded her assent. Smirking, he guided her out of the store and into the open, bustling Konoha streets.

"What would you like to do?"

The question came as a surprise, and Gaara's head snapped down to look at his date. He hadn't really thought about that. He knew quite well _who _he would want to do, but really had only wanted to spend more time with her. It hadn't even occurred to him that she would likely want to spend the time _doing _something.

Hinata took his silence for indecision and peered around. The corner of Konoha near the Yamanaka's had developed rapidly, and, with the civilian population overcoming the shinobi one quickly, always seemed full of shoppers and the like. A huge movie theater had recently been erected a few blocks away. She had never been allowed in—her Father was old in his ways and believed that sitting blankly to do anything but meditate would rot a shinobi's instincts—but had always wanted to. There was a movie coming out, an obvious Chick Flick, that she yearned to see, but it would be embarrassing to ask him to watch that with her…

On second thought, the fact that Sabaku no Gaara was going on a date in the first place would have surprised anyone.

"C-Can we go there?" she said, pointing down to the theater. He followed her finger to the huge, looming, colorful building, and nodded his head once. His hand alternately tightened and loosened around hers as they approached the building, bought the ticket (the teenage girl at the till didn't seem sure of whether to drool over Gaara or shy away from him), and entered the theater.

Within the first ten minutes Hinata was in a daze. The movie was cheesy beyond belief, but she had only seen a few and that made it precious. The theater was nearly empty—she spied a group of girls sitting a few rows below them and a woman and her reluctant boyfriend far down to their left. She and Gaara, naturally, had taken the center-back; she'd heard Sakura mention that those were the best seats.

The storyline was simple and a little cliché. Girl and boy meet. Boy is a complete jerk, until he realizes that he loves Girl. But Girl has moved on and found another man. Boy goes on a mission to win Girl back, yada yada yada.

But for Gaara the film was enlightening, though unrealistic. The Girl leaped back into the Boy's arms too easily, he thought. He hardly had to put in any effort to get rid of the other guy, who ended up becoming a girlfriend-beating villain. But he noticed how moved the girl next to him seemed to be by their lines, predominantly those three words whispered when the Girl and Boy were reunited.

_I love you._

Hinata leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed steadily, tracing his palm with her finger. She seemed more fearless when it came to touching him, and all day seemed to be doing it more and more. He shuddered again, relishing the feeling.

When they walked out, his arm was around her waist.

"That was nice," she whispered. The sun nestled the horizon, staining the sky orange. Hinata could not help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu; the scene seemed an exact replica of the one with Sasuke.

"The girl was really pretty," she mused. Gaara thought about it briefly and then shrugged. She had been pretty, although he thought the role of the sweet, tempered student had not quite suited the model-perfect actress they had chosen. He hadn't been attracted to her in the least, and said so.

"You're far prettier than she was," he said, and then she blushed.

They walked, almost aimlessly. Hinata sighed, knowing that her father would ask questions when she came back late, but she would stomach the scoldings. Today had been too wonderful. She didn't want it to end.

She had no idea why she felt such a strong connection with Gaara. She had known she liked him from the beginning, and it had been so effortless. He didn't speak much, but his adoration was flattering and obvious. He had caused her heartache, true, especially when he kissed her and left her wondering whether he was only after her body, but thinking hard, she decided that he could have had so many other easier targets if that were the case. He liked her. She liked him. It was easy. She looked up at him and marveled at how beautiful he was. Sasuke was attractive without a doubt, but Gaara had something he lacked, something Hinata couldn't quite put her finger on. It was an almost ghostly quality that made him seem otherworldly and divine. The faint glow his pale skin seemed to give? The straight back, the sinewed, strong, smooth arms? Those lips, just slightly pink, and the envy of every girl in Konoha?

And he was hers. That was the best part. He was hers.

By the time they had entered the small park, the sun had nearly set. Hinata sat down on a small bench, swinging her legs happily.

"Gaara," she said teasingly, "I'm thirsty."

It was a scene from the movie. The Girl had dragged the Boy all over town with her, ending her voyage in a park like this one. After forcing him to carry half of her bags, she had said those same words and ordered the poor Boy to get her a soda.

Gaara smiled. He had seen the vending machine not far from them anyway. Standing tall, he nodded once.

"A tea again?" he asked. She nodded, glowing—he'd remembered. He sauntered off, leaving her on the bench.

For a minute, she swung her legs happily, feeling right for once in her life. Today could not possibly get any better.

"Hey, girly," came a voice. "Why're you here all alone?"

**

Gaara walked back, drink in hand. His brow furrowed. There was something wrong. Shuukaku could sense, not one, but four people directly ahead. His senses spiked, and he rushed forward, holding the tea precariously. And then he spotted them.

Hinata was sitting on the bench, looking up anxiously at the three men surrounding her. They hadn't touched her yet, but Gaara could read in them a very strong desire to do so. They smelled heavily of alcohol and other, more potent, things. Hinata looked clueless, if nervous—she clutched the hem of her skirt and her gaze seemed to dart helplessly to her feet.

And then, he slowed to a stop. He should not forget. She was shinobi; she could defend herself. He would step in if and only if he needed to.

"Excuse me," he heard her say, "I should really g-get back to my d-date…"

"Aw, c'mon," one of the men said. "Don't be a spoilsport." He opened up his arms. "Good-lookin' guys like us, beautiful girl like yourself?"

"Yea," another one said, "Let's have some fun, ne?"

Hinata narrowed her eyes. "No thank you. P-please, excuse me."

She stood up now, but they were standing so close together that she almost had to jerk her head up to look at one of them properly. The space made her uncomfortable, and she backed up again, her knees giving way against the bench. When she plopped back down gracelessly, they laughed. Gaara studied them warily. They were not shinobi, but civilians. Was that why she hadn't done away with them yet?

At that moment, one of the men made a grave mistake. He reached for her arm, painfully jerking it back. "We don't take no real well, okay, little missy?"

Gaara wasn't completely aware of what happened next. Just that his scream sounded in unison with another, something louder and more horrible and wilder. The Shuukaku erupted within him, and a surge of sand blew out from his gourd. The grass around the men's feet browned and died, the dirt drying into dark brown sand, congealing, and trapping them there. They looked at each other, confused, and then horrified. Hinata grabbed the back of the bench, looking relieved, and keeping her feet decisively off of the ground.

"G-Gaara!" she breathed, smiling. "Thank goodne—"

Her words turned abruptly into a scream.

His face. What had happened to his face? Half of it seemed to be swelling, becoming something horrible that was not him. His left cheek looked half-flesh, half-sand, cracked and gold and too big for his head. His mouth seemed to have been ripped open at one side, too wide, the teeth sharpened to knife-like points.

The most haunting part of it all, however, were his eyes.

They had once been so beautiful, a misty sea-green. They had once looked into her soul and made her blush with happiness and embarrassment.

But now, the whites were gone, replaced with black, and the pupil that she could not find before revealed itself in the form of a too-large golden circle. Her hands clutched at her heart, then wound themselves into her hair, then clapped over her mouth. The screams pressed through, but they had to stop. He looked horrible. He looked feral. He looked like he could, and would, kill her. The fear drowned out her reason and flooded her with apprehensions and fright.

But he was still Gaara in there… right?

Gaara guided the sand up their legs and clenched his outstretched fists. Three long, agonizing screams punctured the air. The stench of blood and ruined tissue and bone grew strong. His smile grew as Shuukaku fed. It had been so long. _Too long._

The sand slithered up the men's bodies with devastating speed, and soon they were cocooned in it. They no longer sounded drunk—their wails and pleadings were sober enough. This was something he could do without the Shuukaku. Destroying them was so easy. All it took was a simple flex of his hand—

"Stop! Oh god, oh, please, Gaara!"

Her voice was distant to his ears, and when he suddenly felt a warm weight push against him, he was surprised.

"Stop, stop, stop!" her wails punctuated the air, sharp, tortured sounds that made the men's agony sound muffled. He felt wet hands on his chest, clutching his shirt. "Gaara, please, please. Don't!"

Her hands slithered around to his back, holding him close. She cried helplessly into his chest.

No one had never touched him when he was like this. Never like this.

He felt the sand slither back into his gourd rapidly, releasing the men, who fell heavily to the barren ground beneath them. Blood pooled sickeningly from their pulverized legs. Gradually, the Shuukaku retreated. His eyes were the first to change back, becoming sharp green again. The rest of his face followed suit, lightening, receding and becoming human again. Her hands moved up to check him, to touch his face and make sure it had really been restored.

"G-Gaara!" she croaked against him, moving her hands back to his waist again and pulling him close. "Oh. Oh…"

His knees felt weak. He dropped to them, and she followed him down, moving her arms to his neck and sobbing against him. Hesitantly, he moved his own to her waist and pulled her to him. His breathing felt shallow and sharp.

He had scared her. Oh god. He'd scared her. His gourd fell soundlessly to the ground.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. An apology had never sounded so sincere on his lips. She trembled and sniffled. "I'm _so _sorry."

He didn't deserve her. He had been too selfish, too mindless. Absent-mindedly, he traced the tattoo on his forehead. Hadn't he told himself, so many years ago, to love only himself? Had that not been his mantra? Someone like him could not love others—that was his true curse. Before, he had been sure that it was others who could never love him, who would always find him despicable. His siblings had changed that mindset a few years ago, and Hinata now. If she stayed with him, she would get hurt. He had to break this off.

"Hinata," he said, pulling her away from him briefly. She was flushed red, her face streaked in tears. "Please, Hinata. Go…go to the Uchiha."

The emotions that flickered across her face were hard to read. There was shock, of course, and then annoyance, and then pain. Deep-rooted pain. She smiled, but she did not look happy.

And then she surprised him again. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against his tattoo. "No."

Her refusal made him happy, so happy that he felt his chest ache. But being moved was foolish. He knew what was best for her.

"Hinata. Please. I am…I'm _dangerous._"

She was tracing the tattoo with her finger now, gently going over the strokes again and again and again.

"And so is he. And so am I." She ran her hand down his cheek now, touching him so confidently as if she owned his face. He scowled.

"You know very well that that is _not _the same." He let out a shuddering breath. "I scared you."

Hinata paused. He felt her quake, and then settle. "I don't care," she whispered. "Gaara, please…please don't think I think any less of you."

At this, he felt himself break down. "How can't I? I just lost control. I hurt them. _I could have hurt you. _Don't you understand that? You would have been…just like tha--!"

Her lips crashed against his. He shut himself up immediately, eagerly responding to her invitation and kissing her back. His hands knotted themselves in her hair as hers settled on either side of his face, pulling him closer. She was fearless this time, tracing her tongue experimentally along his lips, taking the initiative. She tasted like popcorn and tears.

And then, suddenly, she broke away.

"I don't care, Gaara," she said. "I…really like you. Regardless of…the Shuukaku."

He nestled his head securely on her shoulder and let her hold him. "You are foolish."

Hinata chuckled weakly. Her hands moved in soothing circles on his back. "So are you. You wanted me to make my choice so badly, and now I have and you tell me that I'm wrong. Stupid, stupid boy…"

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The men in the park had been taken and healed, their memories of the night before wiped by trauma and too much drink. Hinata was relieved, of course, but part of her was overjoyed that last night's events had happened.

Even when she had loved Naruto, she had been so unsure of how she would react if she ever saw him in his demon form. She had always wondered whether she would still feel anything for him after spying him covered in spiraling red chakra, fur and sporting a set of fangs. The same uncertainty had arisen when she was with Gaara, especially since his demonic nature was so much closer at hand than Naruto's. She had heard worse things about the Shuukaku. Naruto, if he transformed, would have to do so in increments of a sort, tail by tail. Gaara, on the other hand, could turn in one step if he allowed himself the liberty.

Now, at least, she had her answer. That, in itself, lightened her heart considerably.

And, of course, Gaara had been paying her extra attention since the incident. It seemed as though he couldn't stop touching her, her hands, her waist, her face.

Like now. He was currently trying very hard to hold her hand under the desk and jot down his notes at the same time. She blushed and pushed her hair behind her ear, peering shyly over at him. He smiled gently, no longer making an effort to hide the warmth, and if they weren't in class, she would have kissed him.

Of course, once lunch came around again, they'd have the room _all _to themselves. The moment the bell rang, she felt his hand creep down to her hip, sliding up to her waist and dragging her jacket up with it. Warningly, she pushed his hand away and began opening up their bento, but it quickly replaced itself. He pulled her to him and held her close.

"I love you," he whispered.

She smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "I know," she said. Part of her wanted to return the statement, but love was such a strong word. It was what she felt, but speaking it aloud so early felt taboo.

He knew this and didn't object to it. He pulled her away and traced her lips slowly with his thumb.

"May I…?" he asked. She nodded, closing her eyes as he kissed her gently. A strange feeling welled up in her chest. She loved this feeling. She had, for almost a year now, been showered with praises for her intelligence, for her improvement. It was nice to be appreciated for her strength, but to be loved was another thing. She felt desired and beautiful. She felt wanted. She kissed him again, and then gently put some distance between them.

"We have to eat," she told him, pointing to the overfilled bento. "I refuse to miss lunch today because you're only interested in _snogging._"

He laughed and eased her back onto her chair. Snapping open his chopsticks, he obeyed and popped a roll of sushi into his mouth.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Sasuke looked out into the sky, watching the clouds as they drifted lazily by. He hadn't seen Hinata all week—he and Naruto had skipped for a few days to play video games and generally fool around—and now more than anything he wanted to be with her. It had been his way to reboot after his sort-of rejection, and it had served him well. He felt rejuvenated and ready to start up his systems again, to initiate Plan B. Or was this C?

Naruto bounced next to him excitedly as they burst through the door, four hours fashionably late for school. The blonde chattered incessantly about this and that, too stupid and clueless to notice when Sasuke stopped walking.

"Sakura," Sasuke heaved, "Get out of the way."

The pink-haired kunoichi had positioned herself right in front of them, blocking their path in the narrow hallway. Sakura scowled, but the expression was very short-lived, replaced almost immediately with a triumphant smile.

"You shouldn't have taken such a long break," she said simply, flipping her pink hair coquettishly. "You've completely lost."

Sasuke's brow furrowed, and Naruto peeked over his shoulder, a light blush coiling over his cheeks at the sight of his long-time (unrequited) love.

"Sakura-chan? What do you mean teme's lost?"

Sakura smirked, catching Sasuke's black eyes with her jade ones. "He knows."

She cocked a hip to one side, watching with glee as Sasuke's eyes widened further and further until they flitted to his watch, around the halls and then to his feet. Shoving her out of the way, Sasuke launched himself down the halls, ignoring the sounds of people tripping over themselves to get out of his way and the calls for him to be careful.

_Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit! What could he have done while I was gone? It's only been four days!_

He thrust the door to Kurenai-sensei's room open, pushing himself through, Sharingan activated. She was here, he knew, here somewhere…!

He found her a second later, sitting in the back. Her lips pressed against the Sabaku's, her hands tangled in his hair, his inching up her shirt.

He didn't realize he'd even used Katon until he noticed half the room in flames.

The happy couple broke apart almost immediately, and Hinata shot to her feet, sending a flash of chakra to the sprinklers in the ceiling. They opened up, spraying down the room with water, while Gaara sent a wave of slightly soggy sand to quench the other flames. By the time all of the fire was gone, they were all soaking wet.

Sasuke was hardly apologetic. "What the hell, Hinata?" he growled, advancing toward the two of them angrily. His eyes fixed to the Sabaku's, who looked back emotionlessly. His green eyes were chilling. "What were you doing?"

Hinata, who had looked very flustered before, quickly zipped up her jacket and stared him resolutely in the eye. "I'm sorry, Sasuke-kun. Please calm down—is this really a reason to burn down the school?"

He avoided telling her that he felt like burning down all of Konoha at the moment.

"How can I calm down?" He stepped up to Gaara, not even attempting to water down his loathing. He grabbed at the Sabaku's shirt, his hand fisting the fabric. He needed an explanation, right then. There was no way shy little Hinata could actually be interested in a monster like Gaara, right? He must have coerced her in some way, blackmailed her to make her bend to his wicked will.

A few moments too late, the fire alarm went off in their room, and within a second Kurenai-sensei, Kakashi-sensei, and a score of other students had poofed into the room. Hinata blushed as about twenty pairs of eyes widened and twenty jaws dropped. She thought she saw a camera flash—someone had taken a picture with their cell phone, probably chronicling the moment for the school paper or something. Sasuke turned around hastily, not loosening his grip on the still unmoving Gaara's front.

"Oh," Kakashi drawled, his bored tone belying the confusion in his voice. "Looks like we're interrupting something."

Kurenai pressed her lips together and stepped forward, yanking Sasuke's hand away from Gaara. "I'm not going to ask which one of you just tried to set my classroom on fire," she said, staring pointedly at Sasuke, "but I will tell you now, any unofficial fights are not allowed! Do you want to be expelled?"

Sasuke's gaze did not shift away from his nemesis. He smirked. "Well, then. Let's make it official."

There was a collective gasp. Kakashi rubbed at his head. "Erm, Sasuke? You want to take this to the Ring?"

Again, another gasp. The Ring was an enormous circular field, surrounded by bleachers that could seat the entire school and then some. It was seldom used—simple sparring matches didn't take place there. The Ring, indeed, was reserved for the more popularized matches. The _official _matches.

"Yea," Sasuke hissed, "Yea. I do want to take this to the Ring. Let me kick this bastard's ass for everyone to see."

Kakashi and Kurenai shrugged in unison, and then turned to the proposed opponent. "Well, Gaara? Do you accept this kid's challenge?"

Hinata pushed forward, grabbing Gaara's arm ferociously. "Of course n--!"

"Yes," Gaara said. His brow furrowed as his eyes drilled into the Uchiha's. Sasuke grit his teeth, cracked his knuckles, and finally tore his gaze away.

"All right, then, it's settled," Kakashi said. "This Friday, in the Ring… at one?"

"The sooner the better," Sasuke growled, and then left the room, banging the door behind him. Kakashi watched his student storm off through the window, and then shrugged.

"Man, that kid has a bad attitude," he admitted. He turned to Hinata and Gaara, who looked guilty and out-of-place in their drenched clothes. Gaara's hand slid around to the nape of Hinata's neck, brushing the skin there slowly.

"You two look a mess," Kurenai said. "Go get changed and come back." She looked down at the desk, where their lunch was now a soggy, ruined mess. "Ugh. Actually, go get something to eat, too. Be back in thirty minutes."

Both students nodded and filed out of the room. Gaara's hand found Hinata's and he squeezed it assuringly. Part of him was already regretting accepting the Uchiha's challenge. Sasuke was strong—that much was hard to ignore. Would he be able to hold Shuukaku back if things got too dangerous?

He squeezed her hand again, and she gave him a look of pseudo-annoyance before flashing that wonderful smile.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I trust you."

**0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**A/N: **Well, I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did! This was a really sweet chapter to write. I hope you don't think they got together _too _quickly. It's just that, you know, it's about time she made up her mind (This is my 61st page on Microsoft Word. Single spaced. D: ). And, uh, this is a rated M fic. I didn't make it that way to just shower you with fluff. (Insert evil laugh here).

Yes, Sasuke sounds like a jerk in this chapter. But identify with him, please. I think the next chapter, or maybe the one after that, will be the last. Please review! I hate to put quotas on my fics, but I fully expect to reach, like maybe, 95 reviews? If I hit 100 after this chapter I'll post the last two chapters at once. But I'm being unrealistic, right? 18 reviews _is _a lot. And don't just tell me to "update." I know I have to do that. Make me _want _to. :P


	8. Preparation

**A/N: **I'm so, so, so sorry! I've been out for over a month, but you must understand—I had summer homework and college essays to write! Like I said, as horrible as it sounds, I don't take my FF that seriously. I update to keep you kiddies happy, mostly, and to get my creative juices flowing. :D

Ah. I think I got carried away in my last chapter. Even though I hate Mary-Sues and are usually quite careful to avoid them, I believe I may be creating one. (This is funny. I never make Mary-Sues when I write just plain fiction. I think I'm riding too much on the fact that fanfiction is a lot… easier?) No worries! Hinata still has faults… I should present them soon, ne?

I saw Coldplay live on July 22. They were _divine. _I think Chris Martin is officially the most amazing person ever in my books right now. :D

Anywho, the SHOWDOWN!!! YAY! Except, not yet. Sorry.

I'm a little flattered and a bit peeved. I made a promise that I'd update with 2 chapters if I hit 100, and just when I was kind of hoping for a month's reprieve, someone came along and unknowingly reviewed me! And then, just to rub it in my face, some other dude came along and added his two cents to the mix.

JUST KIDDING!!! I'm so happy I've hit 100, with only 7 chapters, no less! Of course, just because I'm posting two at once doesn't mean you will only review on one….You'd better do both or I might decide not to finish this story at all….

Nah, I'd never do that to you. But I'd make you wait a helluva long time for an update. :D

**Disclaimer: **No more funnies. I'm out. I don't own Naruto. This leash is just to keep him from running too far.

Chapter 8

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

"Hinata-sama."

Hinata turned around slowly, about to chastise whoever dared interrupt her thoughts, and then smiled.

"Nii-san!" She leapt joyfully from her perch on her bed and pulled her older cousin into her embrace. He smiled softly—only the Main Branch girls were ever this exuberant—and then unwound her arms from his neck carefully. He looked down at his master and cousin with questions running rampant through his cloudy Hyuuga eyes. She saw through them immediately, and frowned slightly, aware that something was wrong with him.

"It is true," he said to himself. Hinata heard and lifted a brow.

"Nii-san?"

Neji moved his hands through his hair, hair that had always made her insanely jealous. Why should a boy be blessed with such long, thick, healthy hair? She supposed it was an acceptable exchange for the curse mark—to be caged and beautiful at once was a sad reality for her cousin. Experimentally, she tugged on it. Neji's face softened and then, in the same second, hardened again.

"Hinata, are you really…with the Sabaku?"

Her hands dropped instantly. A wave of panic washed over her, and suddenly she felt extremely somber. Her gaze drifted to the twin glass roses that lay on her dresser.

"Why do you ask this?"

He pressed his lips together. "Answer my question, and I may think of answering yours."

She crossed her arms and sighed. If Neji-ni-san already knew, did Hiashi-sama as well? "Yes."

Neji gasped sharply, his eyes widening.

"Hinata!" he whispered, dropping the honorific in his passion, "Are you crazy?"

Hinata pressed her lips together and shrugged. "Maybe. Where's your answer?"

Her cousin rubbed his hands together frantically, as though the motion would help settle his thoughts. It was already evident that it didn't, because his hand was now darting to his kunai pouch. "The hokage sent a report. On the fifteenth, she said you reported injuries of three civilian men. All three had their right legs pulverized—obviously Sabaku's work."

She lifted a brow incredulously. Hinata had her faults (clumsy, slow to anger but terrifying when furious, clueless), but stupidity was definitely not among them. She knew very well that Tsunade would not waste her time and paper detailing the relationship statuses of her teenage nin. Neji was keeping something important from her, and she was going to find out what it was.

"What else?" she said slowly.

Neji bit his lip. "You were seen together. By..by Hanabi-sama. She said--" he cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away from her, "She said that you were kissing him."

Hinata nearly yelped in surprise, but kept her Hyuuga poise. Hanabi? Her little sister was not so little anymore, true, and she could be a true firecracker—unpredictable and cunning. She wasn't so surprised that she had been following her, but the fact that she had told Neji-ni-san was disturbing. The two hardly ever talked.

Her eyes widened in panic. "Who else knows?"

Her question was answered when a knock sounded on her door, the only non-traditional thing in their Japanese-style home. Hinata activated her Byakugan and met her father's seething eyes through the door. He had not activated his, but she felt he could see right through her.

Neji fidgeted, and Hinata could tell that her cousin was not really supposed to be with her. She calmed him with a stern look and then opened her door.

Hiashi stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Neji leapt from the bed and immediately keeled over in a bow, and Hiinata followed suit. Her father's stare bore down on them strongly and she gulped. Of course. Hanabi had tattled to Daddy, and now he had come to confront her about it. This would not turn out well.

"Hinata," he greeted in his soft, stern voice. She straightened but avoided his eyes. "Neji."

"Yes, father?"

"Sit." He pointed toward the bed. Hinata moved at once, clutching her hands together, but Neji stalled for a moment until Hiashi said, "You as well."

At first, Hinata had thought that being seated would make this more bearable, that she would feel as though she were having a heart-to-heart, open conversation rather than a scalding discussion. However, from this position she had to look up to see Hiashi-sama's eyes, and the angle created an eerie, intimidating shadow over his eyes. So low, she felt smaller and weaker and more vulnerable.

"Hinata. Is what your sister tells me true? That you've been seeing the Sabaku?"

Hinata's hands fisted nervously on her knees. Her crippling shyness always returned with a vengeance when her father was around. She could hardly breathe for fear of doing so too loudly, let alone speak. But he expected her answer quickly, and he expected the right one—Hiashi-sama could smell a lie from a mile away.

"Y-yes," she whispered. She moved her hand behind her and reached for Neji's. It was there, of course, like it always was, and it grasped hers reassuringly.

Hiashi's eyes narrowed. For a moment, he was silent. Then…

"I understand that he is supposed to be fighting the Uchiha two days from now, am I right?"

Hinata pressed down tighter on Neji's hand. It probably cut off his bloodflow, but he bore it well, staring straight ahead with the quiet dignity of a high-level Branch member.

"Yes," she answered.

He nodded. "You know what you're getting yourself into. Demon containers often take on the temperaments of the creatures within them…"

This time, Hinata looked up. "Gaara is not a monster," she said, her voice shuddering with the effort. Hiashi's eyes seemed to soften, the exact opposite of what she'd expected.

"Neji. You and I will attend the match at the Ring tomorrow." He turned around to leave, stopping at the door. "Make no mistake. If he shows any signs of losing his control, I will make sure you do not get within five miles of him again. I will _not _put our Heiress and my daughter in that kind of danger."

It was the nicest thing Hinata had ever heard him say to her, but also the most frightening. His threat was real—he could keep them apart, he could kill Gaara if he deemed it necessary. And she could also read the underlying meanings—that Gaara had better win as well.

When Hiashi had finally left, Hinata allowed herself to fall into her cousin's waiting arms, trying to slow the painful pounding in her chest.

**

"Teme! You're a total prick, you know that?"

"Shut up."

Naruto skidded to a stop in front of his friend, who was currently running around a track—for the two hundredth time in a row. Naruto had been following behind him all the way, but fifty miles is ridiculous even for a shinobi, and he felt like he was about to drop dead.

Sasuke responded with a glare, but he stopped all the same. The moment he did, his calves and gut started complaining, reveling in the rest that was bound to be far too short.

"Get out of the way."

Either the sun or the fatigue made Naruto bolder—either way, he crossed his arms and stood his ground.

"You're tearing Hinata-chan apart!" he said loudly. "Look, Sakura-chan has _always _gone for you, no matter how hard I try! But, in case you haven't noticed, I haven't exactly tried to kill you yet!"

If that was even possible, Sasuke's glare intensified. He made a wide arc around Naruto and continued running, leaving Naruto in the dust. Infuriated, the blonde narrowed his eyes and created a crowd of shadow clones, about 4 clones thick, all around Sasuke. Before he could even think of bashing his way through them, Naruto leapt into the air and crash-landed on his best friend, knocking him to the ground. It was almost _too _easy—he knew Sasuke'd probably seen it coming. With a muted _poof, _he discarded his clones.

"Don't…" he huffed, twisting his friend over so that they faced each other, "…Don't try to run away, teme! I won't let you escape!"

Sasuke's eyes positively smoldered. "Who's escaping?"

Pissed, Naruto punched Sasuke in the arm, hard. He barely jerked. "You are! Now listen to me! You need to let cancel this match!"

Sasuke's lip twitched. "When hell freezes over."

Naruto swung again, this time connecting with his right cheek. Again, Sasuke didn't move. It was unnerving. Naruto snarled. "She didn't choose you, Sasuke. You can't force yourself on her. Hinata's not like…some of those other girls. She isn't going to like you even if you _win._"

Sasuke turned away. The place where Naruto had punched him glowed angry red against his pale skin. "I'm not stupid. I know that."

"Then why—?"

Sasuke shrugged. "He was touching her. I want to beat his face in."

Again, Naruto hit him, this time in the gut, and Sasuke responded this time with a low growl. "You idiot! Why don't you do that after school or something? Why the Ring? _What do you have to prove, teme?_"

Sick of the abuse, Sasuke abruptly shoved his friend off of him and rolled up to his feet. "Nothing," he whispered, "Absolutely nothing."

"Then, why--?"

Suddenly, Naruto felt a blunt pain against his temple. With an _oomph, _he fell to the ground. Sasuke stood over him coldly, massaging his fist.

"Don't ask me that. It's annoying."

"You really are a heartless bastard," Naruto spat vehemently, sitting up. He rubbed his head, looking furious, and stood up. "I can't believe I thought otherwise."

Sasuke's lips quirked in what could be considered a smirk, but there was no real amusement in it. "That isn't my fault, is it?"

When Naruto's eyes looked up again, they flashed red. "Stop. Being. A douche, Sasuke. She chose _him. _Just the same way Sakura chose you, or Kurenai-sensei chose Azuma-sensei. Something tells me trying to hurt him isn't going to make her suddenly fall for you. Even if you do win, she'll run back to Gaara to help him up—"

"Shut up."

The truth stung. The truth stung, though he tried to shoulder the pain. Every bit of it was true, every last word. Hinata hadn't chosen him. She had never chosen him—she'd never really considered it. He remembered what he'd told Sakura before, about how he was a horrible boyfriend, selfish and self-centered, and how he'd never make her happy. He remembered Sakura's reaction, her elation at finally being accepted, and how she had cleverly ignored his warnings. And now she was hurting, although he really could care less, considering she'd been a total brat to him since then.

Their situation was almost the same. Hinata had told him in the beginning who she had chosen, and he had tried to drive a wedge through her decision, tried to turn her the other way. She had told him expressly that she liked someone else, and, because he was so close to her, touching her, smelling her, he ignored it. He decided that, because all girls were fickle, and because she was a girl, he'd be able to charm her out of her infatuation.

He was in the wrong and he knew it. Of course, that would never keep him from changing his mind. He was a Uchiha, _the _Uchiha. His pride would not heal so easily.

**

"Gaara, he knows."

They had met again around Ichiraku's, partly because they never had any time to themselves at school anymore (half of the class had suddenly decided that eating lunch in the classroom was actually a great idea), but mostly because Hinata could not stand staying at home by herself. He held her hand under the table, staring motionlessly at the steaming bowl in front of him. Hinata looked up imploringly, and then she'd said those three words. Normally, he wouldn't be afraid. He _shouldn't _be afraid. He wasn't afraid of the Uchiha—he doubted he'd have to bring the Shuukaku out for an opponent like him, but he was afraid of himself. If the Uchiha did or said something that tried his patience and made him angry, would he be able to hold his demon back and keep from transforming? From ripping the boy to shreds in front of a thousand shinobi bystanders?

And now Hinata's father had been tossed into the mix. Their future together depended so heavily on the match, now that her father knew something.

"I'm sorry," Hinata whispered, "I should have been more careful."

He smiled, and she glowed. His smiles were never wide and expressive like Naruto's; they were gentle, more eyes than mouth, and calming.

"Do we have anything to hide?"

Sighing, she squeezed his hand and brought some noodles to her mouth. He watched her as she swallowed, and then, experimentally, did the same. The ramen at Ichiraku's was a million times better than what Temari usually fed him at home.

"No," she finally answered. "We don't, I guess."

"Good," he whispered. "Then I don't see the problem."

Hinata could, though. The questions boiling in his eyes were so easy to read, and she knew at once that he was doubting himself again. It irritated her.

"Gaara," she said suddenly, pressing her chopsticks down, "Don't worry."

Any bystanders would have found this comment random, seeing as Gaara's expression never seemed to change to them, but she could feel his tension.

"Listen to me," she added, "I trust you. I trust you not to hurt Sasuke, or me, or my father, or anyone. I trust that you'll be able to hold Shuukaku back. I, Hinata Hyuuga, trust you with my life. So, please… trust yourself too, okay?"

He peered at her from the corner of his eye. "It's tomorrow."

She nodded and blushed. "I know. Ino's helping me make banners to cheer you on. I hope you don't mind pink."

Gaara's smile dropped in mortification, but Hinata laughed.

"I was kidding, jeez…"

Suddenly, a flash of orange entered both of their peripheral visions, and Hinata jolted at the familiar chakra. Simultaneously, the eating couple turned around to face a fuming, slightly bruised Naruto, who was lumbering toward them with death in his eyes and naughty words under his breath.

"Stupid teme…should've killed that asshole when I had the chance…dammit…"

He stumbled onto a stool next to them and slammed his frog-purse onto the table. He didn't even seem to notice Gaara and Hinata sitting next to him. Still looking disgruntled, he rang the bell and yelled, "Hey, Teuji! It's me. The usual, please?"

The ramen-man, a kind-looking middle-aged man with a round belly, peered down at his regular with a wide smile. "Are you sure, Uzmaki? I've been experimenting; I've got a special today! It's got scallops and crabmeat and shrimp!"

Naruto looked up groggily, and mumbled, "Gimme that, yeah," before slumping furiously onto the table ledge.

Hinata and Gaara watched him curiously, both raising brows at his behavior. They exchanged a quick glance, and then, hesitantly, Hinata put a hand on his shoulder.

"N-Naruto-kun?" She blushed, unable to hide her body's natural response to the blonde. She might not love him in _that _way any more, but her admiration for him had never died, and she still felt a little…smaller in his presence.

He glanced up harshly, and then his blue eyes softened. A huge, goofy grin replaced his previous scowl. "Hinata-chan!"

Without thinking, he engulfed her in a hug. Hinata turned puce, and patted his back nervously, checking behind her to see Gaara's reaction. He pretended to look very interested in his ramen. Behind him, his gourd shuddered.

"N-Naruto-kun! You shouldn't do that!" she said, flustered, when he pulled away. Her eyes strayed to the purpling bruise on his cheek, and she flinched. Shinobi were used to most injuries, but usually only had to endure them for a few minutes—healers were always close by. Sighing, she sent some chakra to her hands and touched his cheek. The purple slowly shifted to an even tan.

"Thanks, Hinata-chan!" Naruto said brightly. He leaned forward, finally noticing Gaara. "Hey! Gaara! You're here too?"

Gaara nodded slowly, murder still in his eyes. Naturally, Naruto didn't see the danger and grinned widely.

"Look, I'm sorry about Sasuke-teme. He's kind of a prick about a lot of things, and he hates losing…" When Hinata made an offended face, Naruto recovered quickly, "No, no, Hinata-chan, he doesn't think this is a game at all! It's just his stupid Uchiha pride getting in the way. He'll look back a week from now and regret it all, I swear. So don't think any less of him…"

He looked at both of them imploringly, his smile gradually disappearing until his lips were set in a firm line. "You have to understand him. He's been through a lot. When I think about it, we've _all _been through a lot."

Hinata closed her eyes, absorbing the truth in that statement. Naruto, with the kyuubi locked inside of him, had been shunned for so long. The years when he needed nurturing the most, it was denied him. He had been ostracized and alone, and his earnestness, which had always been mistaken for stupidity, was what had drawn Hinata to him in the first place.

Gaara… well, she had seen firsthand what was wrong with Gaara. Naruto's seal was made to lock the Kyuubi in, to give it next to no chances of freeing itself from its cage. Sure, its chakra leaked out every now and then, but as long as Naruto kept himself calm, it would not take over. The Shuukaku was different. Her father had told her this, many years ago, speaking of it as though of a ghost in a dimly-lit room with Hanabi cuddled up at her side. Gaara had been created to kill—it was locked only just under the surface. It lived in sync with him for the longest time—when it yearned for blood, he delivered it. Naruto had to lose control completely; Gaara only had to loosen his grip on it a little. His own father had tried to kill him, everyone he had wanted to love wanted him dead. His existence was sorrowful for so, so long. It had only recently gotten better.

Sasuke—she didn't know much about Sasuke's story. Her father had spared her the gory details—she'd always been faint of heart—and had taken Hanabi alone to the site of the old Uchiha manor. She had only seen the destruction in her imagination, and what she saw there was horrible enough—blood splashed everywhere, seeping down walls, into sinks, pooled on the floor. She knew that his brother was the murderer, that he had attacked everyone and finished them within minutes, leaving only his younger brother behind to suffer. She knew him as the standoffish child—plenty of people offered him undying love, and he chose, stubbornly, to spurn it.

Hinata sighed. "We have."

Gaara ate in silence.

Naruto brightened a bit. "So, then, you totally understand me when I say that, maybe, you guys could become friends?"

Hinata smiled. "Well, I've been trying to be his friend for a while now, but I didn't think he wanted that much. But, well, of course."

A soft tinkling announced that Gaara had finished his bowl. "No."

Hinata wheeled around; Naruto's jaw slackened. "No?"

Gaara stood up, facing away from the two of them. He closed his eyes his sifted his hands through his hair. "I…refuse to be friends with a person like him."

Hinata stood too, but it had no real effect—she was still inches shorter than him. Glowering, she met his eye. "What do you mean by that?" she whispered. When he looked away, she sighed and sat back down. "Do you hate him, Gaara? Because I don't."

Naruto nodded. "You have to understand him. I know he's put you all in a difficult situation, but…" He lowered his voice. "You know why we were gone for four days?"

Hinata pursed her lips. "Playing video games?"

Gravely, Naruto shook his head. "That was only the last day. We were looking…looking for his brother."

Hinata gasped. Gaara did not seem affected—he did not know, nor care to know, the story.

"I-Itachi?" she whispered, leaning in.

Naruto nodded. "He thinks he's found him now. We've been following the trail of this group called the _Akatsuki_, and we're almost certain he's part of it."

Gaara jolted. "The Uchiha's brother is part of the _Akatsuki_?" _This _he knew something about. It came out more as a statement of fact than a question, but Naruto understood and nodded again.

"Baa-san would be really mad at us if she knew we were cutting class for this, but you have to get this. He's been looking for the guy for ten years. And failing. You," Naruto said this pointedly to Hinata, "You were the only thing that kept his mind off of it—he didn't even want to go after him immediately, cuz he was scared he might accidentally lead Itachi to you. I think, in his head, he thought that if he could have you, he might not feel so drawn to finding Itachi. It's like, both of you were an addiction for him, but you were the harmless, sweet kind, and Itachi…was the meth, or something."

Hinata flushed red and wrung her hands together. She knew that Naruto wasn't trying to blame her for anything, but it was impossible to not feel… guilty. She had been what was keeping Sasuke rooted, and she had torn herself away from him.

"So, this is all my fault, then."

Naruto flushed too. "No, no! Hinata-chan, it's nothing like that! Sasuke," he said slowly, "is just a big bastard. Sakura-chan has been there for him forever, and he was horrible to her."

Gaara sighed. "Beggars can't be choosers," he said slowly. Naruto nodded, understanding.

"Yeah. Somehow, we're the ones who like to dream the wildest, huh?" Naruto whispered.

They sighed in unison, and Naruto slammed some bills on the counter, enough to pay for the three of them and cover the tip.

"Tomorrow," Hinata said softly. Naruto nodded grimly.

"Tomorrow."

**

Tomorrow came much to quickly for Hinata's liking. Time always seemed to ridicule her—speeding up when she wanted it to slow down, slowing down when she'd rather it sped up. She had been too nervous to go to the Ring first, preferring instead to laze around inside the Yamanaka shop. She hadn't seen Gaara all day, either—he'd subtly asked for a morning alone after they had parted ways at Ichiraku's. She wasn't offended—he could have his space if he wanted it—only worried.

Ino's happy-go-lucky voice broke her thoughts. "Hey, Hinata, should I do these letters in black or blue?"

Hinata turned and looked at Ino's work. She'd been hard at work designing and creating dozens of posters to support Gaara, made from cloth and poster board. They were selling like hotcakes—it seemed that the other girls at the Academy were finally seeing how gorgeous he was. Right now, she only had two left, and, to Hinata's chagrin, the biggest, most ostentatious one, was reserved for _her. _Hinata was starting to really wonder whether Ino was developing a weird little crush of her own…

The font on this one was curly and hardly legible, but Hinata could care less. "Blue," she said, naming off one of the colors at random.

Ino pursed her lips. "Really? I thought that maybe…"

"Black, then. Make it black."

There was a silence. "Hina-baby, are you okay?"

Hinata crossed her arms and looked down at her feet. "Yea, I'm fine." She lay down on her back on the floor, looking up at the plethora of colors that hung above her. "I'm fine."

Ino put her hands on her hips and turned to face her, quirking a brow. "Gaara-kun will be okay, okay? He's a big boy. He knows how to take care of himself. Before he showed up here he was doing this kind of thing everyday."

Hinata pouted and sank deeper into the couch. "I know."

"You're not worried about Sasuke, then?"

Hinata narrowed her eyes. "I don't want either of them hurt."

Ino stuck out her tongue. "Goody-two-shoes. You should want Gaara to beat the bastard to a pulp!" She held up one of her banners. "Gaara, Gaara, he's our man, if he can't do it, no once can!"

Hinata's eyes darted to her watch. Five more minutes. She winced. "Ino-chan," she said, stopping her friend mid-dance, "I think we should go."

Ino grinned widely and held up her half-finished poster.

"The match won't start till.." She looked up at the clock on the store wall, "Crap."

Hinata wagged her head. "You are a horrible, horrible timekeeper. C'mon. We've got to go!"

Ino nodded, and, grabbing her friend's hand, activated Neji's jutsu—which was in horrible need of a name. Activating her Byakugan, she weaved her way through the streets with a passenger in tow, and raced toward the Ring.

******

**A/N: **What? What? I didn't get to the fight? WHAT???? Sorry. I max out chapters at 10 pages, and this was right there. :D So, next…FIGHT-O!!!


	9. Battle

**A/N: I have to be dead honest with you. I've only read snippets of Shippuden, and, erm, frankly? I have no clue how Sasuke fights. I even wiki-ed it, but there's only so much you can read, you know? So, just keep in mind that I'm not working to make a kick-arse awesome fight scene, cuz I know I won't be able to produce that in a ring. The end of the battle is what's most important, ne?**

Chapter Nine

Dammit. Where was she? It was already two minutes till, and even as he scourged the crowds, he couldn't see her. The other Hyuugas were easy to spot, sure—sitting up front and center was her father, looking as morose and ever, and her cousin, the long-haired former badass of Konohakagure's Academy. Next to him sat her little sister, who looked about ready to see the fight as a beer-slugging old man at a WWE tournament.

But where was Hinata? She was _supposed _to be there. Even if she wasn't going to support him, he needed to see her there. If he didn't, he diddn't know how much mercy he could show.

**

Two minutes until the fight. He crossed his arms, breathing in slowly, and looked around him. The corner of his lip quirked when he saw the abundance of posters and banners supporting him, all made by the Yamanaka, of course. There were legions more for Sasuke scattered all around—the Prince of Konoha could not be dethroned quite so easily—but no one had ever cheered him _on, _and it was a nice change. His eyes roamed the audience. She wasn't there yet, but no matter. She would be. He found Hyuuga eyes and knew that her family was near, but she had never seemed that close to them, with the exception of the boy, and so it didn't surprise him that she was not accompanying him. What he found curious, instead, was the fact that his siblings were sitting right next to them. Naturally, her father and sister stared straight forward, ignoring them, but her cousin was whispering quietly to Temari.

He stood up, meeting the Uchiha's eyes across the field. They were dark, dark, and cold, but he had seen more intimidating…and crushed their owners.

One minute. Where was she?

**

Hinata pushed through the crowd, dragging Ino along like a rag doll. She was going to be late. This was bad. Battles in the Ring never started late—the moment the clock hit two they'd begin. She clenched her fists. She hadn't been prepared at all. She was still wearing only a camisole and baggy pajama pants that she'd taken to bed last night at Ino's, and her hair was a ragged, messy bun on the top of her head. She'd worn the closest flip-flops she could find, and by the way she could already feel the heat of the asphalt, she knew they were probably wearing thin from her jutsu.

The gates were about to close, and she vaguely heard Ino scream. The guard looked up at her, racing like her life depended on it, and shut the door.

Hinata screeched to a stop and looked at him incredulously. The gatekeepers were always civilians—but this one was a nin, and a familiar looking one at that. His partner was next to harmless, though, reclining lazily on the wall behind him. She ground her teeth together.

"I have to get in," she hissed. The man looked at her with a raised brow.

"Sorry, I have orders not to—"

Ino pushed Hinata out of the way. Her hair was askew, half-undone from its ponytail and falling in pretty blonde tendrils all around her face. "Listen, jerk, just open the door. We're only a few seconds late."

The nin smiled. "Look, ladies, I can't exactly do that. You have to understand…"

Ino narrowed her eyes, and then, with charge only those of true _Boar _spirit could posess, punched the nin in the gut. He went down easily—a genin, probably, and besides, he hadn't expected it—but he would be up soon enough. He was already yelling curses at them, and demanding his civilian guard to help along, but as the other guy was on their side, he only shrugged. Hinata peered over him, concerned.

"Hinata-chan, this is no time to be nice!" Ino yelled, "Come break this thing down!"

Hinata looked down at the cursing nin, a blush appearing on her cheeks. "Gomen-ne sai, Guard-sama!"

And then, Hyuuga Hinata did something bad. Very, very bad. She charged her hands up with chakra, and quickly began turning off his flow at multiple chakra points, leaving him half-paralyzed on the ground. Hands still charged, she pushed against a lock, and the gates came open and Ino and Hinata hurtled onto the field.

Simultaneously, they blushed. The guard wasn't a jerk after all—they'd chosen the wrong gate. In the Ring. Hinata felt Ino clutch her hand, half dazed with mortification.

"What are you doing?"

Hinata caught Gaara's gaze, and, chagrined, tried to give him a smile. He had dressed for the occasion, wearing a dark red, silk sleeveless turtleneck. "We…we were late…so we came in through the wrong gate?"

He seemed to simmer for a moment. "Hinata, Ino. Please get out."

The command seemed rude, even with a rare 'please' appended to it, but Hinata knew that it was right. Flushed, she nodded.

"Hai," she whispered, "C'mon, Ino-chan." She took one step toward the stands, wondering how far she'd have to run back to clear the wall that separated the battleground. It was a good ten feet high. Maybe if she put some chakra into her feet?

And then she remembered something. Turning back to him, she smiled gently. "Good luck."

Gaara grinned and folded his arms. "Thank you." With a dismissive wag of his head, he shooed her back to the stands.

Hesitantly, she turned around, facing Sasuke at the other side of the field. Gaara raised a brow. What was she _doing?_ Smiling shyly, she waved over to him and yelled,

"Fight honorably, Sasuke-kun!"

Gaara rolled his eyes. Really, she was so clueless. Couldn't she see that he had no intention of being _honorable_? He was out for blood, not her petty, half-assed encouragement. Gaara ground his teeth. Even from this distance, he could see Sasuke wince.

Ino grabbed her hand and they both launched themselves into the stands, landing steadily on their knees in front of a pair of disgruntled nin.

The proctor stepped into the ring a few moments later, announcing the rules of the battle. The timer would be set for thirty minutes, in which time the competitors would be free to fight. A set of judges stood at the sidelines (the teachers, naturally—Kakashi-sensei, Kurenai-sensei, Asuma-sensei and Gai-sensei) who, at the end of the time, would rate the battle and announce the winner. The battle ended, regardless of the time, when the medics deemed a fighter too injured to continue. There was to be no interference with the battle itself, however—it could be a polished duel or an all-out brawl.

Sasuke cracked his neck slowly, eyeing the Sabaku as the proctor raised his gun in the air.

"Combatants ready?"

"Ready," they both said quietly.

"Okay. Begin!"

The gunshot cracked through the air and rumbled through their bodies. Hinata clutched her knees and squeezed her eyes shut.

The clock was ticking, and neither one had moved. Gaara looked unimpressed by the whole situation, standing with his arms crossed and his eyes settling indifferently on his opponent. Sasuke stared back, similarly postured.

At first, it seemed as though the fight had turned into a staring contest instead. Hinata furrowed her brow, wondering what they possibly could be doing.

Ino explained it quickly. "They want the other to go first," she said, eyes trained on the spectacle below them. "That way, they can formulate a plan."

And then, almost on cue, Sasuke disappeared.

A collective gasp sounded throughout the stands. Unfazed, Gaara looked forward. The dust around him rose threateningly.

Suddenly, Sasuke reappeared, throwing a punch toward Gaara's gut. His sand whipped in the way before he could get close, blocking the Uchiha off, but he was fast and threw a kick instead. The sand shield worked efficiently, darting to and fro with Sasuke's movements. It didn't seem to make sense why he was still trying—it was obvious that it would get him nowhere.

Finally, Sasuke retreated, but a tendril of sand caught him around the ankle and launched him into the ground. He slid a good fifty feet before jumping to his feet again, no worse for wear.

"This is weird," Ino observed silently, "Only taijutsu? Shouldn't he know better? Even _Lee's _taijutsu doesn't work on Gaara…"

Hinata nodded. Did Sasuke have a death wish? She activated her Byakugan and leaned forward.

He hadn't even pooled his chakra to his limbs. It didn't make sense. Gaara seemed to know this, and stood back, coolly defensive.

And then, Hinata realized something.

Every time Sasuke dove in, his mouth would move. And almost imperceptibly, Gaara's would as well.

They were talking. The fight, so far at least, was more of a front. Hinata jumped up, leaning into the railing.

**

"I know where your brother is," Gaara had said simply at Sasuke's punch. The chakra that had imbedded his fist quickly retracted, and, smugly, Gaara allowed his sand to slap Sasuke away. The Uchiha recovered quickly, his black eyes narrowed to filmy, skeptical slits.

"…Hn."

Sasuke dove in again, throwing unnecessary blows—they were all deflected. He grit his teeth, frustrated, and spat on the ground.

"I'm being serious."

Giving up on his simple hand-to-sand approach, Sasuke reached behind him and drew his katana, holding it threateningly before him in a low-to-the ground stance, before lunging.

The sand shield whipped around Gaara quickly, but not quickly enough. Sasuke's blade pierced through, missing Gaara's arm by a mere centimeter. Gaara winced at the prospect of the potential pain, but then crushed his sand together to trap the sword in place. Sasuke's eyes flashed darkly, and he lifted one hand high.

A loud crackling sounded, and the sky above them flashed with lightning. At once, the electricity struck, making a beeline for Sasuke. He let it pulse through his arm and directed it down his arm, holding tightly to the sword so that the shock ran through it.

Hinata clutched her hands to her chest, and Ino had to drag her away from the next spectacle.

It took a split second for Gaara to realize what had just happened, but that was simply too long—the lightning pulsed through the sword and into him, arresting his body with a mind-numbing pain that made his body shake uncontrollably. The sand, helpless without its owner, fell limply to the ground. The katana fell with it, its point landing in the sand.

Smirking, Sasuke hoisted it out and balanced the blade on his shoulder as he watched Gaara fall to his knees. The sand armor was cracking, sifting off his face in haunting stream—that, if anything, would explain why he was still alive.

"You fool," Gaara murmured. The hand at his side whipped to a side quickly and clenched into a fist. The sand on which Sasuke triumphantly stood snaked quickly up his legs, racing to encase his entire lower body. Sasuke growled, struggling to move, but Gaara squeezed tighter—not enough to break anything, but enough to cause discomfort. "I'm giving you something important, and you're turning away from me."

Sasuke glowered, panting furiously. "There is _nothing _you could give me that'd be worth my time."

The sand raced up and pelted Sasuke roughly in the stomach. He gagged and then spit out a small dribble of blood.

"Don't be an idiot. Your brother—Uchiha Itachi, am I right?"

Sasuke only glowered, struggling in his bonds. The proctor looked to them fearfully, aware of what Gaara was capable of once he had a ninja in the clutches of his sand. Scratching his head, he called out nervously, "Hey, is this a good time to call it quits?"

Sasuke threw him a lethal glare. The proctor shrugged then, as though to say, _Your funeral, _and stepped back again.

Sasuke turned his attentions back to the calm redhead standing before him. The crackled, dripping sand armor was the only indication that he was fighting at all—by his cool, unsmiling expression and crossed arms he looked more like he was just mildly irritated.

"What about my brother?" Sasuke finally admitted.

Gaara lowered his eyes. "Part of the Akatsuki. He travels with a certain Kisame—a man who looks very much like a shark. A year ago, they paid a rather pleasant visit to the Academy in Suna—" here, he smirked, but the expression was ghastly because it held no real amusement—" and decided that they should try and incapacitate me."

Sasuke turned away defiantly, trying not to look interested in the valuable information his rival was giving him so easily.

"You want to know why they were after me?" Gaara peered at him closely, and when he didn't respond, answered anyway. "The Jinchuuriki—they're after the Jinchuuriki. They could not detain me the first time—with Shuukaku free, I am next to invincible," when Sasuke winced, Gaara continued, "Yes, Uchiha, invincible—but also quite merciless. They're after Naruto next, which is why you and Naruto probably saw them so close by."

Sasuke ground his teeth. "You know?"

Gaara nodded solemnly. "Naruto and I have much in common."

"You say that Shuukaku is nearly invincible? How 'bout you let me test that?"

Gaara's expression darkened. "Don't be stupid."

For a moment, Sasuke looked like he would very much like to punch Gaara in the face, but then, his expression slackened.

"Let me go," he whispered. "You're acting like the good guy, so… let me go and we can call this battle off."

Gaara narrowed his eyes, mistrusting. "You'll do no such thing," he said slowly, "I'll let you go anyway, but don't do anything that you'll regret later."

The next few seconds went by in a blur.

Gaara relaxed his fist, and the sand slithered down as quickly as it had risen up. Just as quickly, Sasuke had drawn his sword from its scabbard and thrust, catching his adversary between the ribs.

The sand armor was too weak to deflect it. The blade penetrated, sinking deeply before being retracted. The blood pooled out, an angry red color that smelled heavily and horribly of cold iron. Gaara watched it idly for a moment, and then the pain set in.

It was blinding, it was horrible, it was incapacitating. For a moment, there was nothing but the pain, it blocked out everything, the catcalls and cheers from the crowd, the sound of his sand falling around him, even the tortured sound of his beloved's cries. He fell backwards, and at once realized that he was human, human and very, very mortal.

The pain intensified suddenly, but this one was more familiar and more frightening than the other. It originated in his head, then spread like wildfire to down his body. The gap in his ribs was rapidly closing, hissing steam as it healed unbelievably quickly. He arched his back, gasping for breath as his skin pulsed and contorted.

He felt himself hobble to his feet, but he was no longer in control, no longer aware. His body lurched forward, and he realized that his feet were no longer on the ground—an overgrown, horrible, golden arm kept his suspended in the air instead, some twenty feet high. He could see Sasuke below him, could see his blood-tipped blade, his dark eyes wide and fearful.

He had promised Hinata. She had trusted him, and he had proved himself unworthy. Her father, her cousin, her sister, her classmates—they were all watching. They were all seeing the monster that he was, the monster he could be.

It had been years since he had cried last, but he felt the old constriction in his throat.

And then he felt a strange lurch in the pit of his belly, as another sand-arm sprouted from his gourd and lunged straight for the Uchiha. Sasuke dodged deftly, jumping away from it, but it closed in again, this time looking quite determined to strike.

"Gaara, Gaara, Gaara!"

He heard her voice in the crowds, heard the tears in them. He could almost sense Ino pulling her back, forcing her to sit down. It was amazing how, amongst all of the screams and yells of fear, he heard hers the most.

Gritting his teeth, he willed the Shuukaku back, willed to regain his control. It would not relinquish it, fighting him tooth-and-nail, but he would not lose, not this time.

The hand retracted suddenly, whipping back and away from Sasuke, and Gaara suddenly knew a new pain, one even more horrible than all of the others combined.

The blood splashed sickeningly onto his face, lathering his neck in red, and his eyes widened. Slowly, he willed himself to look down.

He could see the Shuukaku's ghastly claws, drenched in the blood it so coveted—coming out from his gut.

The huge arm holding him dissolved, and then he was freefalling.

He lost consciousness before he hit the ground.

**

"Gaara! Gaara!"

The sound was horribly tortured, but it forced him awake nonetheless. He blinked, taking in the white walls around him with a slow turn of his head. The agony attacked him immediately, and hesitantly, he turned to look down at the bandages wrapped around his stomach.

He sighed, knowing that he was lucky to still be alive.

"Temari," he said to his sister, who was leaning over him concernedly. Her cheeks were flushed, and the wet evidence of tears layered her cheeks. She grabbed her brother's hand tightly, and he noticed how she trembled in his grasp. He had never seen her like this—in fact, he never, ever, remembered seeing her cry, even when they were young. He turned his head slightly, seeing his brother rise from his chair. His clothes were different—he had ditched his face paint and black jumpsuit for civilian wear, and he looked ten years older. His mouth was set in a firm, worried line. "Kankuro. How long…have I been here?"

Temari hiccupped, and then dropped Gaara's hand gently, looking disgusted with herself. She sopped up her face with the front of her shirt and grit her teeth. "Five days," she whispered. Gaara turned to the IV in his arm and nodded in understanding.

"Ah," he said, a little too light-heartedly. "And…Hinata?"

Temari suddenly looked furious. "The nurses won't let her inside...since she's not…family."

He jolted to a sitting position, nearly yanking the IV from his wrist in the process. "She's tried to come?"

A strange surge of joy rushed through him—just the fact that she still cherished him despite his broken promise made the pain disappear for a moment.

Of course, it returned full force within a few seconds, and he collapsed back onto his bed. "Tell them I'm awake," he ordered coolly.

Temari nodded profusely, but then frowned. "Would you look at that. Lying on what could be your effing deathbed and you're still trying to order us around."

Kankuro narrowed his eyes warningly. "Temari, take it easy there."

Temari fisted her hands at her sides, and then said, even more loudly, "Let me just let you know something. I don't do what you tell me to cuz I'm _scared _of you." She let the words sink in. "I do it cuz you're my cute kid brother, and cuz I love you to bits."

The words would have been a lot more terrifying coming from Temari had her face not turned such a bright shade of pink. Embarrassed, she grunted in Kankuro's direction and stomped out of the room.

A moment later, she reemerged, pushing a gasping, pink-faced kunoichi into the room. The tears in her lilac eyes flooded over and she thrust herself away from Temari, barreling past Kankuro and wrapping her arms as best as she could around his neck.

"Oh, Gaara…"

**

**A/N: I don't consider this a cliffie. You know it's Hinata…**

**This chapter was tough to write. I don't do action often—it's just so hard for me. :D **


	10. Musing

Chapter Ten

**A/N: ** I'm so, so, so, sorry! I know, I've become one of _those _writers—the kind who disappear for months at a time before posting again. You must understand, though. I have school now. Six AP classes and Organic Chem, which might as well be AP. Extracurriculars, a book to market, and…heck…a social life. There's only so much time I have for writing anymore, which is a sad but unfortunate truth of high school right now. :P

I suppose I shouldn't make excuses. Sorry. You can unleash your ravenous monkeys on me now.

Also, I'll be honest. This isn't one of my best chapters. I want this to end soon, but I can't think of a comfortable way to wrap it up. D: Any ideas?

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Naruto, Hinata would definitely be getting with Sasuke or Gaara. Hands down. I still occasionally dream that Kishimoto-sama makes a crazy arc like that. :D

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The days trickled by slowly, moving so lethargically that he could almost count seconds between each grain of sand that floated down to the other side of his huge makeshift hourglass. He had never before been glad to be a Jinchuuriki—the gaping hole in his stomach would have definitely been fatal had it not been for Shuukaku's intense chakra. True, he couldn't heal as quickly as Naruto, but he wasn't dead, right? That was enough to be grateful for, right?

Lazily, Gaara turned his head and looked around the room. It would have been very drab were it not for the colorful cards, balloons and flowers that littered the windows—his defeat had earned him _more _fans than ever. He'd never even heard of half of the girls who were shoving gifts on him now. It felt strange to be loved—he had forever assumed that he would never experience such affection.

He smiled faintly. Some of the sand that made up his hourglass crumbled off the edges and drifted into the air, swirling in lazily convection circles. Controlling it was a lot harder lying down, and lying down was extremely hard because he couldn't sleep.

Being a horrible insomniac sucked. Especially since having all of that extra time on his hands forced his thoughts in rather dreaded directions.

For example, while he knew for certain that Hinata still loved him completely, his hopes of getting to her father were dashed away the moment he lost control. She came to the hospital on rare visits because he had barred her from seeing him. The Hyuuga Head had been sure to send scouts after her for the first few weeks, but after a while, when he was convinced that she would behave herself, he had done the unexpected and let his guard down. Still, Hinata took precautions—putting on various henges until she entered his room, recruiting Shino and Kiba to stand guard outside the hospital and tell whichever Hyuuga managed to pass by that she had only stopped to use the loo. He was always glad to see her, but the constant reminder that, once he was healed, he'd have to prove himself again was a heavy burden on his chest.

And then there was that stupid Uchiha. Just thinking about him made Gaara's gut hurt. He couldn't believe that he had expected him to listen to reason. He had, foolishly, of course, assumed that because they both loved Hinata, he'd be willing to see sense once he saw mercy. Unfortunately, he hadn't known the Uchiha well.

A gentle knock sounded on the door. Gaara's brow furrowed. The room was dark—it was definitely past visiting hours, and the moonlight shimmered through the window and pooled on the floor like so much spilled silver wine. Supporting himself with his hands, he boosted himself to a sitting position and locked his hands up in a stance, ready to attack if the intruder intended to ambush him. His pride jolted. What if, after witnessing that _mess _that was his battle, someone thought it'd be easier to off him? That he'd gotten soft?

He barely heard himself croak, "Yes?" to allow the person in.

The door creaked open slowly. The sound must have irritated the person who heard it, because she jolted and grabbed the door itself before sliding herself in.

He squinted. It was a nurse, a stocky, smooth-faced woman with salt-and-pepper hair who smiled shyly up at Gaara with green eyes that were quickly becoming a cloudy grey.

The henge wore off quickly enough, and Hinata shook out her blue-black hair and dusted off her jacket. She looked up at Gaara's slightly amused expression and giggled, but there was a strange level of pain in her eyes.

"That was…creative," he noted, and then laughed softly.

She giggled. "This way, at least some guy won't try to hit on me every ten feet," she whispered. She'd tried disguising herself as very attractive women before, only to realize that she stood out like a sore thumb. "Plus, now it won't matter whether I visit you during hours or not."

Hiashi was a lot less suspicious when she ventured out at night, past visiting hours, anyway. Usually Ino covered for her by calling a movie date and shooing Hinata off the moment she arrived. She'd always surprise her by actually heading to the movies and stuffing herself with popcorn and chocolate-covered raisins while bawling her eyes out to some chick flick.

Slowly, Hinata made her way to his cot and sat down. Her hands absent-mindedly traced the baby blue hospital blanket beside his thigh. He tried to smile, but the expression still wasn't very natural for him, so he resorted to glowering at his feet.

"How do you feel?"

It seemed like every one of their conversations started like this. She grasped one of his hands and looked down at him earnestly, honestly, and though he still felt like crap he gave the same answer he always gave.

"I'm fine."

"Are they feeding you enough?"

He chuckled weakly there. "Quite."

"Is anything hurting?"

"Stop worrying."

"…You know I can't help it. Worrying. I'm always…"

"Stop, then."

Silence.

"…You're so brave, Gaara."

"Hn."

"…Y-you're so, so, brave. And so, so beautiful, and e-every time I see you like this…"

She always got close to tears around here. It was like clockwork. She'd hold it in until they started talking, until she started voicing her fears, and then nearly let it out in waterfalls. He lay down, closed his eyes, and dragged his thumb slowly over her hand, assuring her.

"So are you. I'll be fine."

It was always around here that she carefully began to lift his sheet to look more carefully at the wound. It was still raw red, but the flesh seemed to grow back quickly—luckily, the Shuukaku's claws hadn't damaged his organs beyond repair—they'd had to do some work on his liver and heal his intestines, but mostly it had missed his vitals. It had forced its way out through four almost vertical openings, and the surgeons had to cut a fifth right down the middle to try and heal his innards a little more carefully. Silently activating her Byakugan, Hinata leaned in a little closer and looked deeper. The infection that had festered a few weeks before was gone, and the flesh was healing evenly, inside faster than out. Slowly, she ran her fingers down the length of each wound.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He dropped his forehead against hers. "I don't understand why you're apologizing."

She sighed, her fingers sliding just past the center wound, the largest and most painful one, and settling right above his navel. "You wouldn't be hurt if I hadn't been more careful."

He chuckled at her choice of words. _Careful? _He'd been kissing her. Did she really expect to still have her guard up at a time like that?

"You're being ridiculous," he said bluntly. "Very, very ridiculous."

Her lips quivered and she glared at him defiantly. Forgetting herself, she pressed a little too hard on Gaara's stomach and he winced. Immediately she pulled back, about to leap from the bed, when he grabbed both of her arms and forced her lips to his.

It always happened like this, although it seemed they took turns at initiating it. One second, she's sitting down next to him, holding his hand and blaming herself, the next, he's hovering over her possessively and kissing her like there's no tomorrow. Her hands slowly drag up his spine, sending sparks of electricity jolting up it with every inch, and he loses himself in her, and she in him.

The hourglass flips itself over.

He broke away first, his breathing labored, and smiled as he looked down at her. She panted, her eyes slightly glazed and unfocused, and then smiled shyly back up at him.

"O-one of these days," she says, "Your wounds are going to reopen."

He grinned wolfishly. The expression was still wild on his face, reminiscent of worse times, but she laughed at it and stretched out under him. His eyes flickered naughtily to her neck, bare and pale before the backdrop of ink-black hair. There's a scar there, a thin line where she was nicked by a kunai. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to it.

Hinata gasped as he bit and nipped and kissed his way down to her collarbone, not gently at all, almost as though he fully intended to devour her. She arched against him, her hands sliding to his shoulders and then fisting in his hair.

"G-Gaara…" she whispered, "Careful…"

God, he needed her.

"Hinata," he whispered, gently collapsing against her. She smiled under the comfortable weight and began playing with his hair, twirling the crimson strands around her fingers.

They lay silent for a while. Then…

"…I'm thinking of… leaving for a little while."

Gaara turned his head slightly, trying to catch Hinata's eyes. "Hn?"

She turned of her own volition and smiled. "Konoha, I mean." It came out like a whisper, almost silent.

For a moment, Gaara was silent. The sounds of her panting seemed to echo through the room.

"Where would you go?"

Her smile widened uncharacteristically, and she pulled herself up to a sitting position. The cot _is _made for only person, and she isn't quite as tiny as she used to be.

"T-to Sunakagure," she said. Her voice shook, and she could feel that cursed nervousness rise up in her again. "W-with…with you."

His lips quirked in a bit of a smile, and then he let out a laugh, or something that might resemble it.

It had only been a month or two since he'd left Suna, but he could hardly recognize the unreasonable, indifferent, violent person he'd been before. He knew he'd probably revert again without her—without someone there next to him, he had no real reason to be civil (it usually was not as simple and efficient as being an intimidating badass, but sacrifices can be made). She bit her lip and looked up at him, turning a little pink.

"Do…" she said, "Do you think it's a bad idea?"

He shrugged. The movement disturbed his wounds, and he flinched. "…now?" he said, a little weakly.

"No!" Hinata assured him, shaking her head furiously. She sensed his discomfort and pulled herself to the very edge of the cot before sitting up completely. "Not permanently. Not now. I…I still have duties to my clan. But I'd like to visit." _I'd like to know the kind of people who couldn't care to search for the warmth inside of you. I'd like to understand how they could be so blind. _

He chuckled. "Konoha feels more like home."

She sighed. "I'm so _tired _of Konoha, though. I love Neji-nii-san and my sister, and my father, and I really, really like Ino-chan too. Kiba-kun and Shino-kun are always there for me, but everyone else…you just get tired of seeing them after a while." She turned to him. "Like, you're tired of pretending to actually care about someone else. Of being ignored sometimes and then adored at others. I…" she paused, her voice breaking mid-rant, and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I just mean… before you came here, I didn't really see a point in…letting other people know I was there.

"I used to really like Naruto-kun, you know that?"

Gaara stiffened. "No," he said, sounding a bit strained. _Naruto?_

Hinata giggled at his expression. "Yes. He was always so optimistic. People were horrible to him but he'd loved them anyway. He's a really good person, and he's always smiling. I think that I wanted to be like him. B-but…it was futile, because no matter how hard I try, I can't. I've made myself stronger, but I still can't stand up for myself, I still can't go against what other people want."

He chuckled. "And me being here has changed that?"

She pursed her lips. "No, actually. I'm still not very good at that."

He lifted a brow.

She smiled warmly. "But I think I decided I wanted to tell _you _what _I _want."

His brow traveled higher, hidden behind the messy waves of red hair. "And what is that?"

She gave him the answer on his lips.

"Ah," he said smugly, "That I can give you."

*

Sasuke felt like a complete prick.

He'd known embarrassment, terror, and pain, but never regret. He'd never regretted turning Sakura down, never regretted messing Naruto up every now and again (granted, it was usually a mutual affair), and never regretted pursuing, relentlessly, that which he really wanted.

He _did _regret stabbing Gaara, though. That had been, as Naruto had mildly put it, "not cool." It hadn't been entirely personal. Most of the people he knew were likely to one day stab his back, and the bloodthirsty Sabaku seemed to be on top of that list. He was just so used to being the last person out there to trust anyone else.

When had that guy changed so much?

Just a few months ago, he wouldn't speak a word, just glare down every poor person who dared look his way. Now, he was talking to people. Sure, Sasuke could count the number of people Gaara communicated with on one hand, but he was strangely verbose with them. And besides, Yamanka Ino was one of them, and she was almost unbearable.

His thoughts immediately flashed to a certain quiet, dark-haired kunoichi. He blanched.

He'd liked Hinata for so long. Years ago, when they first entered the Academy, she was the only girl who stayed back when the others decided to play "Which-one-of-us-can-kiss-Sasuke-kun-first", the only one who addressed him properly by 'Uchiha-san' when she didn't know him, the only one who treated him like a human being instead of a piece of meat. He'd always been good-looking, and realized that for a serious-minded person like him, this was more a curse than a blessing. She seemed to see past that.

Not to mention the fact that she was adorable. Hinata had never been _beautiful, _not really even _pretty. _Her face lacked the high cheekbones and sexy brow that both Sakura and Ino and even Tenten, to some extent, had been blessed with. It was round and soft-looking, and the eyes that framed it were large, usually watery, and as grey-white-lilac as storm clouds. Her features were too delicate, too gentle, and her lips were round and pink, like a cherub's. Even her chin was dimpled. She looked like a _child _sometimes, for crying out loud. Especially when she pressed her fingers together and bit her lip…

On his second year at the Academy, he'd almost confessed. He'd prepared himself mentally (After all, he could tear a dummy to shreds with one shuriken—how hard could asking a girl out be?), drafted a mental speech, and even picked a small handful of wildflowers.

Unfortunately, Itachi had chosen that night to strike down his clan. Instead of dreaming of Hinata's lilac-tinted eyes, he saw blood drip down his walls that night.

The memory was still fresh on his mind. His fists clenched. That night, he'd wanted so desperately for his aniki to kill him, to just finish him off like he had their parents. Why hadn't he? It would have been so easy, so effortless. He would be happy, if confused, and in heaven (hopefully) with his mother, and everything would have been simple.

Instead, he was stuck here with a heavy load of grief and a bruised ego (a Uchiha's heart is never broken.)

Swearing just over his breath, he allowed himself to fall backwards on his bed. The mattress bounced rigidly underneath him.

There had only been three consistencies in his life until now, and they were falling apart before his eyes.

One, Itachi was his for the taking—for the killing. Itachi's whole goal in life was to torment him, right? Wrong. Apparently, the dobe was more important. The Jinchuukri. It made his bitter losses taste even more pungent.

Two, Hinata was _his. _How long had he waited with baited breath for her to look away from Naruto so that he could make his move? And instead, the moment she'd realized that Naruto was out of her reach, she'd set her eyes elsewhere.

Three, people in general could not be trusted. He ended up nearly killing one of the first people who dared negate that.

"I'm such a prick," he muttered to himself. He'd known it for a while, but his underdeveloped conscience never seemed to care before this.

God, he thought. I'm not the one with a demon claw through my gut, but it still hurts.

**

"Hinata."

Her father's voice was deep, low, and concerned. Hinata didn't know whether to be terrified of his tone or relieved. The fact that he'd called her to his private office could only mean one thing—he knew. The moment the servants had summoned her, she'd slipped deviously into her pink and white yukata, an exact copy of the one her mother used to wear. Her father tended to be a little less harsh when reminded of his beautiful late wife.

"Yes, otou-san," she answered. Her hands fisted against her knees.

"I believe you know why I have called you here."

She felt her throat constrict, but reminded herself that she knew she wouldn't be able to get away with it forever. "Yes, otou-san," she repeated, looking and sounding for all the world like a broken doll.

"You have been disobeying me, Hinata."

Her heart tremored in her chest and she was sure she would pass out. "I-I…I love him, otou-san."

She watched in consternation as her father's lips tightened.

"He is dangerous, Hinata. You saw the damage he wrought on his body during the match. He is not sealed, and he has next to no control. I do not want him to hurt you."

His concern touched her, but for once she didn't want it. Taking in a deep breath, she answered, "I…he would never hurt me. Please, otou-san." She bowed down until her hair trailed over the floor. "Let me continue to see him."

Her father scowled, not appreciating her newfound haughtiness. "You are the Hyuuga heiress, Hinata. For the sake of your clan, _do not _do anything rash that may compromise your health."

His gaze drifted slowly to the wrinkles in the pink and white yukata, and he sighed before dismissing her.

It had not gone past the notice of either Hyuuga that Hiashi-sama had not expressly said "no."

**

**A/N: **What? The chapter is over already? Yes. It is. I usually go for ten pages, but I think eight should suffice. You _should _be satisfied with the word count, even if that's it.  
Writer's Block sux. If you're keeping up with either of my other two stories, I'll try and update soon, 'kay?


	11. PreGrad Mission

**A/N: **

You may or may not have noticed, but I've changed my penname. Don't ask why. Maybe I was in a muse-y mood.

Okay. Just want to clarify something. I said it in the first chapter, but I just wanted to clarify that I'm not a teenage pedo (LOL). The characters are NOT 12 in this. They're all 17, except for Tenten, Neji, etc., who are 18. I'm _not _following the typical Naruto Academy thing. I just still wanted them to be shinobi, so I don't quite think it's different enough to be AU.

I'm late again. By, like, four months. (Or is it five?) I'm sorry. It's hard to keep up. In fact, I'm thinking of deleting my 'Muse' story—it isn't getting anywhere and not even a hoard of newborn plot bunnies can revive it. Maybe after this I'll only do one-shots. :D

I got Kingdom Hearts 358/2 days! I can TOTALLY understand the Axel/Roxas fandom now. They'd be adorable together—and this coming from a girl who ISN'T into shonen-ai. But for those two---I GIVE MY FULL SUPPORT! _ *fangirl 'KYAA'*

**Disclaimer: **If I did own Naruto…I don't know what I'd do. Definitely not homework, though.

****

A cool breeze ruffled her skirts. Hinata crossed her legs tightly, letting her gaze wander over Konoha's rooftops. Many years ago, she had followed Naruto to this site, hiding clumsily in the shadows and watching him make an alarming transition from a hyperactive dunderhead to a thoughtful-looking future-Hokage. He'd known the charm of the place—it's ability to settle one's thoughts—before anyone else.

She adopted the site as her own. He'd never have to know.

Gaara was getting much better. His demon had injured him, but now it was healing him as well—the worst of the damage had healed and Tsunade had even allowed him to walk around his room.

She shuddered. She loved Gaara, but it was stupid to deny that he really sometimes made her _wonder._

It wasn't fear. She'd gotten past fear the first time they'd shared a lunch. No. It was a strange apprehension—and she only felt it when he threw her one of his intense, relentless stares. Even with Hyuuga eyes, she could not tell what he was thinking, and that in itself bothered her.

And lately he was so restless. He was not made to be concealed behind white walls—he'd never even known serious injury before this. Sabaku no Gaara never broke a nail, let alone ruptured an organ. The nurses and doctors had expressly told him not to do anything that might possibly exert him. The last time she'd stopped by to check in on him, he'd been doing upside-down push-ups _on one hand_, just as 'light practice' before he got back on the field.

To add insult to injury, the Hyuuga's annual formal was to be held in two weeks. In short, all of the big names in Konoha would be gathered. The adults and teenagers would be separated, in hopes of initiating natural conversations and possibly promoting romantic relationships to strengthen ties between different groups. Every year, Hinata had busied herself in the corner, stirring her glass in her hand, while the other clan children chatted and looked mostly bored. It had never been a pleasant experience, but at least Hiashi-sama was not likely to parade her around or dictate her dress.

Or perhaps he didn't because he knew that Hanabi would take care of the job in her place.

She hadn't seen Sasuke for a while either. He'd come to her three days ago to, in his own way, apologize. He'd cocked his head to one side, asked about Gaara, told her that he wasn't giving up— not _completely—_but that he'd try to stay out of their way.

She'd been disappointed with herself for still being angry. While he spoke, she'd kept her eyes on the ground and her hands fisted at her sides, and when he paused, finally spat, _Are you finished? _and marched off. She wondered, briefly, whether she'd hurt him, and then decided that he'd deserved it. At least they were even now.

Something moved on the building beside her. Hinata hopped to her feet and tossed a shuriken. It embedded itself into the brick of the adjacent building, thrown as a threat rather than with the intent to kill.

"Who's there?"

Hanabi jumped out, hands held up in surrender. "Watch it!"

A badly-timed gust of wind breezed by, lifting her skirt. She flushed and tried to force it down with her fists while Hanabi wheezed with laughter.

"I'd think you'd use your Byakugan. Geez, makes me wonder," she said, sighing melodramatically, "Why the Hokage wants to see a dork like _you." _

"She wants to see me?" Hinata'd only spoken to the Hokage once, and that was to ask about the village's medical program.

Hanabi shrugged. "We've been looking _everywhere _for you. She's at the compound."

Eyes wide, Hinata leapt off of the roof, landed nimbly on her feet, and ran as fast as her legs could take her to the compound.

*

Hanabi hadn't been lying. Ignoring formalities, Hinata activated her Byakugan in the Hyuuga compound and searched out for the Hokage. She found her in the drawing room, lounging lazily on a pillow while her father sat, knees together, sipped his tea, and looked generally furious.

She burst into the room and immediately dropped to her knees in a bow.

"Hokage-sama!" she said quickly, "Excuse me for being late—"

The Hokage raised an eyebrow and looked down at the kunoichi. "It's only been five minutes, kid. Get up."

"Yes, Hokage-sama!" She jumped manically to her feet, realized that she was looking down at her elder, and sat down like her father instead.

"I have a mission for you," Tsunade said simply. Hinata jolted.

"Hokage-sama," she said softly, "I'm still in the Academy—"

"—An unfortunate complication," Tsunade finished. "I'm ignoring it. You're _relatively _strong, but we'll fix that soon" (Here, Hinata flinched) "But for this particular mission, I need _you."_

She'd never felt so honored. Briefly, she caught her father's eye. His face remained emotionless, but the way he took a too-long sip and closed his eyes told her that he was proud.

"Thank you, Hokage-sama."

Tsunade didn't smile. "What I am about to tell you must _never _be repeated outside of these walls. Do you understand?"

"Of course."

"Then," Tsunade said, "Listen carefully. The Kazekage has been killed." Ignoring Hinata's horrified expression, she continued, "I have operatives investigating right now, and we're still looking for the culprit. Now, the people are in a bit of havoc right now. Suna doesn't do well in transitory stages. We need for Sabaku-san to head back there, now, and claim leadership."

Hinata froze just as Hiashi began to cough up his tea.

"The Shuukaku?" Hiashi hissed, "That _boy_, lead a nation? Excuse me for saying this, Tsunade-sama, but have you lost your mind? Did you not _see _the match?"

Tsunade nodded coolly. "Yes, I did. And what I learned from it is that Sabaku-san is devilishly strong, calculating, and still compassionate enough to sacrifice himself for something, or someone, he loves." She turned her gaze to Hinata. "It is rather obvious that this someone is your daughter."

Hinata began to tremble in spite of herself. "So, I'm just supposed to convince Gaara to…go home?"

She'd wanted this before, right? To go to Suna with him. To see a new world before her. Was this a blessing? Or a curse?

Tsunade shook her head. "You're supposed to escort him home. I'll have a few Anbu trailing you, though I'm sure you can take care of yourselves."

"And when I get there?"

Tsunade pulled a scroll from somewhere inside her kimono. "You return immediately. Here are the mission details. Do _not _tell him that I've ordered you to do this, do you understand? He already knows about the Kazekage."

She handed her the scroll. Hinata grasped it tightly. "He's hurt, though."

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "He's been in that hospital for a month. I healed up the last of it this morning. We're releasing him tonight."

They sat in silence for a potent minute, and then Hinata finally sighed. "I'll do it."

Hiashi nodded, "Of course she will."

Tsunade stood. "This should come as an honor, Hiashi. The only person I've sent out on a mission pre-graduation is your nephew."

Hiashi took a slow sip. "The Hyuuga household never disappoints." He looked at Hinata pointedly. "Begin packing, Hinata."

"O-of course," Hinata said. Bowing once, she turned to the Hokage once more and asked. "He's still in the hospital?"

Tsunade nodded.

"Then I'm going to see him first. Excuse me, otou-san, Hokage-sama."

*

"Gaara's being released today?" Ino's smile could rival Naruto's in width. "That's awesome!"

Hinata nodded, unsmilingly. "But he has to go back to Suna."

Her friend's face immediately dropped. "Wait. Why?"

Hinata shrugged, and then reaching into her pocket, withdrew a small wad of cash. "I'd like the lilies today."

Ino nodded once, and then disappeared into the jungle of flowers that was the Yamanaka shop. At first, she'd insisted on giving Hinata the flowers for free ("We're friends after all, right?), but caved in easily enough when Hinata insisted ("Gotta keep the business going somehow, I guess.") It was a little strange to give someone like _Gaara _flowers, but at the same time, also strangely befitting. He'd given her that glass rose, after all.

"When is he leaving?" Ino slammed a vase full of pure-white lilies onto the counter, and then handed Hinata her change. It was a wonder she didn't break it every time.

_The Hokage said not to say anything. This is my first mission._

"I'm not sure." She trusted Ino, but she could be a bit of a motor-mouth.

"Oh," Ino leaned into the counter, brushing a bang from her eyes. "Well, you know. If you don't have much time left, you should definitely make the most of what you _do _have left. Do something fun together. Show him how much you really care." She fluttered her eyes suggestively.

Hinata looked at her blankly for a moment, gasped, and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Ino," she whispered, "I-I don't think I want to try that just yet—"

Ino laughed. "Oh, Hina-chan. Gutter-brain—I wasn't talking about _that._" She reached into her apron and pulled out a small, square package. When Hinata made a terrified expression, she laughed even harder and handed it to her.

"It's 'silence'. When you're together, you're constantly going to be watched. This'll make sure that even _ANBU _can't tell what you're up to. It's a powder—I got it from our trip to Kumo. It's even better when you throw it with a smoke-bomb."

Hinata nodded and tucked the package into her shirt. "Thanks."

Ino grinned and then waved her away. "Go knock 'im dead, Hinata-chan."

*

There was no need to use a henge to visit Gaara today. It was one advantage of the Hokage's mission—Hiashi-sama had been oddly lenient with her all afternoon. It was nice to just be able to walk through the hospital doors as herself.

She knocked on his door, waiting for his usual low, lazy response.

Instead, he opened it.

Their eyes met.

He was fully dressed, gourd included, and looked just about ready to step out. His siblings must have brought him a different set of clothes, because his scrubs (what they had provided for him after he'd insisted against the hospital gown) had been folded neatly in the corner and he was wearing a black-and-red, high-collared, sleeveless top and…were those sweatpants?

"Y-You're…"

"The Hokage herself healed me this morning."

He undid the last three buttons of his vest to show her the wound. Where there had once been five gaping holes were now a series of thin, barely-perceptible scars. It was a professional job, typical of Tsunade, with minimal scarring. Had the wound been any lighter, there wouldn't have been any sign of it at all.

She hugged him. "You're better, then."

He didn't return the gesture for a moment, and then slowly, almost awkwardly, held her back. She noticed, and bit her lip, aware that something was very wrong—he usually pounced on her.

She pulled away. "Are you sure you're alright?"

He looked down at her briefly, and his gaze was distant. She'd known him by his pointed, penetrating stare—where had that gone?

"Quite sure," he said. He pushed past her and into the hall. "I'm checking out."

Hinata fumbled. "But—Tsunade said to wait until the evening!"

He furrowed his brow. "I'm leaving, Hinata."

She frowned. _Why is he being like this?_ Just the night before, she'd had to pry him off of her. She activated her Byakugan silently, searching the area for any unwanted spies, and found none.

It was then that she spotted an almost imperceptible trail of chakra flowing back into Gaara's gourd. Sand. The stream was tiny, only a few grains thick—without her Byakugan on, she would have never seen it—but it was definitely there. She followed the trail through the window and outside, her vision only taking her as far as the hospital gate.

She turned back to Gaara again. He was silently signing himself out, and the nurse was allowing him to leave, surprisingly. His brow was still furrowed, as though he were trying to comprehend something that simply didn't make sense. Probably watching something or someone, using some age-old technique only he could get away with to gather intel. Intel on what, though?

He finished signing, and then motioned once to her. Slowly, she ambled over, giving him a wary look. She waited until they were outside the hospital doors before raising an eyebrow.

"What's the sand for?"

He didn't seem too surprised that she'd figured him out—if he was, he certainly didn't show it. "I received an…interesting message today."

Her brow hiked further up. "Oh?"

He nodded. "It appears my people want me back. And it seems your Hokage is not loath to let me go."

She blushed. How had he figured it out already? Tsunade would be furious with her once she found out Gaara already knew the plan.

"They know that you're strong, Gaara," she said softly, "Maybe they're just acknowledging that."

His face was as stolid as stone, and twice as unreadable. "My father was the Kazekage before this man—who left no heirs. I suppose you know how Sunakagure's political system works?"

Hinata nodded—at the Academy, they'd studied the other village's histories and governments in an attempt to wipe away ignorance and improve diplomacy. "Patrilineal heritage—if they find you worthy. So, basically, they want you to go and just…do something to prove yourself? D-Don't you have an older brother?"

Gaara scoffed. It was the most emotion he'd really shown in the past ten minutes. "Kankuro rejected it immediately. He is not suited for leadership."

Hinata crossed her arms, fingering the small package of silence through her shirt. "Are you?"

He didn't answer for a moment, and once more, she berated herself. What if he was offended? Did he think she was questioning his ability to lead?

And then he smiled. It was sarcastic and far from genuine, but at least it was soft, not the hard, slightly manic ones he usually gave.

"I've been asking myself that question."

"But you want to try." A fact, not a question.

He paused again. "Of course."

She sighed. Might as well be frank with him. Standing on tiptoe, she whispered to him, "I'm coming with you."

He blinked pronouncedly, but somehow understood her need to be secretive and raised his brow instead of making a scene.

"I told you before I wanted to go to Suna," she defended feebly. Somehow, her fingers had managed to twiddle with each other again. She frowned, clenched her hands into fists, and put them behind her back. It had taken her years to break that habit—there was no way she was going to let it resurface.

Gaara nodded. "Your timing is impeccable."

"I'll be getting ready," she informed him, daring him to object. "We should leave soon. You don't want to keep them waiting."

A smirk quirked at the corners of his lips. "Yes. I don't."

**

On her previous pseudo-missions with Kurenai, Hinata always packed light.

Weapons pouch. Check. Canteen. Check. Seals and scrolls. Check. _One _extra set of clothing. Maybe toiletries, if the trip was going to be long.

But this was a _real _mission, even if she had to pretend that it wasn't. In that case, what was she to bring? If she met Gaara with just her typical pack, he'd suspect. She'd have to come loaded, like she was a girlfriend on vacation, not a shinobi at work. She'd packed and repacked about four times.

Giving up, she shoved random changes of clothing into a grey, nondescript duffel bag (bought at a civilian store the night before, as the Hyuuga household would never hold something quite so mundane) and zipped it up before she could change her mind. Her pouch would stay at her hip where it belonged, even if it was strapped around a dress.

She wished Neji-nii was home. He'd have been so proud of her for following in his footsteps.

Hauling the duffel bag onto her shoulder, she knelt forward at Hiashi-sama's office and quietly requested entrance. He granted it, his shadow lobbing up and down through the paper door.

"I'm leaving now, otou-sama," she said simply.

"Do your mission well, Hinata," was all he said in reply.

Hinata didn't miss the tiny quirk of his lips, though, when he said that. The _'Be Safe' _that had not been voiced. She smiled widely, and then, correcting herself, adopted a calmer façade.

"I will."

*

"We'll be taking a _car_?"

Hinata stared, incredulous, at the shiny black Mercedes that was parked right outside of the Sand sibling's apartment. She could count on her hands the number of times she'd ever ridden in a car—shinobi _ran. _And while cars were convenient, they weren't exactly stealthy.

Kankuro looked at her like she was an insect. "No shit, Sherlock."

His older sister responded before she could even blink with a solid slap on the back of his head. He yowled and rubbed the back of his head.

"Sorry," Temari said, shooting her brother a disgusted look, "Kankuro's an idiot."

Hinata smiled. Temari was nice, strong, and beautiful—a lethal combination. She carried herself like she didn't care what others thought, with her shoulders thrown back in a strange backward-slouch. Her entire body was stringed with muscles, yet somehow she managed to still be feminine and curvy. It was hard not to feel at least _slightly _insufficient around her.

Gaara brushed her arm gently, and she looked up. A chauffeur was holding the door open. Tsunade was _really _sticking her neck out for these guys—future diplomacy with Suna was vital.

They piled inside, Gaara first, then Hinata, Temari, and Kankuro.

"Two hours to Suna," the driver announced. Hinata bit back a gasp—on foot, it usually took about two _days. _

"Understood," Temari said, sounding bored, "Can we just go, already?"

With a grunt and a nod, the chauffeur agreed. The car lurched forward, leaving Hinata's stomach far, far behind.

_Sunakagure._

_Ino-chan, when I get back, I will have too much to tell you._

*

**A/N: I'm running way low on steam for this story. I think I'll try my best to wrap it up in two chapters or so. *Le sigh.* I don't read over my chappies before I post, so if you find any errors/ inconsistencies, just me now, ne? 3**


End file.
